


Passengers

by Extraordinaire



Category: Passengers (2016)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Heavy Angst, Passengers AU, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Separation Anxiety, Stranded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 39,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extraordinaire/pseuds/Extraordinaire
Summary: Jim Preston meant to wake Aurora Lane. But the Avalon is malfunctioning. Now Jim is stuck with a stranger who doesn't want a thing to do with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A WIP started months ago. If you don't like it, please remember you have the choice not to read.

_He woke the wrong woman._

He meant to wake up Aurora Lane. He knew what he was doing and he had the right tools in the right place. But something happened when he touched the fuse. The lights flickered through the entire hall, every pod went dark for a moment. Only a _blink_ of a moment. And the pod behind him shut off instead.

_The wrong woman._

He knew nothing of her except she was overweight and panicked easy. Within minutes of hearing how long he’d been awake and how long until the ship reached Homestead Two, she broke down. Hyperventilated into an asthma attack. Jim had to drag her to the infirmary. He struggled lifting her into the Auto-Doc.

Worse, _she knew._ In only hours, she figured it out. She read Jim _too_ well, put all the pieces together, knew he was the cause of her pod failure. She found her pod and studied the hardware. She found the drive door ajar on Aurora’s pod, observed the fuses and the chipset. She determined the ship drew power from her pod to compensate for the the shortage of Aurora’s. It made no difference Jim didn’t mean to wake her.

 _“That just makes it all better!” she huffed, grinning but hysterical. “Woken by mistake_ **and** _rejected! What do_ **I** _do when_ **you** _accidentally got the_ **fat, ugly** _girl by_ **mistake?”**

Worse still, _she had a daughter._ Jim stared as tears teemed down. Autistic daughter, high-functioning but still needed physical help half the time, twelve years old. _“She’d just gotten her first period,”_ she said. She’d promised she’d be there when her daughter woke up. Now, she not only wouldn’t be there to show her daughter how to take care of herself, but she wouldn’t get to say goodbye.

_“I’m going to grow old and die before she even wakes up. I’ll never see her again.”_

He apologized. But she didn’t believe a sound.

 _“No, you’re not! You didn’t mean to wake me up, remember? I’m a_ **mistake!** _A fat, un-sexy mistake in your way when you meant to wake a_ **pretty** _girl_ **instead.** _I didn’t matter before, so why the hell would you be sorry now? You weren’t even sorry when you tried to take Aurora Lane’s life! Don’t stand there and lie to me! You stole_ **more** _than just_ **my life!** ”

And that was it. Jim didn’t see her again for two months.


	2. Chapter 2

He heard her scream. Sorrow and heartbreak. Pain. But she was always gone when he arrived. She always seemed to know when he was en route.

The first few days she’d been awake, Jim admitted he didn’t care she wasn’t Aurora. He’d studied Aurora for months, read everything about her, everything she’d written. He felt like he _knew_ Aurora. It wasn’t her that awoke, but he realized it didn’t matter. He’d been _alone_ for _over a year._ He needed _someone._ _Anyone._ He needed voices, laughter, _arms. Reason._ A reason to exist. Jim figured at least with one person, no matter who it was, he had a reason not to let the airlock spit him into space. He only wanted a real, breathing, _warm_ person.

He’d hoped she’d warm up, but she never did. She had no interest in speaking to him.

The next time he saw her, she was waiting for the elevator when it stopped to let him off. She held a bleeding hand to her chest with red dripping to bare feet and dark circles under sallow eyes. Her face was thinner than when she awoke, adding to the long, grim countenance. Jim stared concerned, but she dismissed him. Too off guard to argue, Jim stepped out and watched the elevator take her away.

He didn’t see her again for another six weeks.

Naked, barefoot. Staggering. Face long, dark, sullen. She stared off into oblivion as her feet dragged and stepped right into the fountain. And stood there soaking as an automated voice repeated requests to step out.

Jim didn’t know what to do. He looked down over the railing undecided in the appropriate course of action.

More unnerving to see her close up. He saw _himself_ in the person trying to drown in the fountain. Depression. No will to endure, to exist. Nothing more than a husk. She hadn’t bothered to shave, either, _anything;_ not what he was used to in women. She also lost ample weight; bony fingers, her collar, and ribs stuck out like sore thumbs. A thinning face more resembled a skull than the full cheeks of the panicking woman he met months ago. Skin drooped as if her weight had been vacuumed away. Weight lost _too_ fast. Jim guessed she’d not been eating. She looked unhealthy beyond average limited use of the auto-doc could cure.

“Lana?” Jim took slow steps.

She didn’t acknowledge him. Water splashed over and around. Pale skin looked more pallid; Jim couldn’t tell if lighting made her look worse, or her condition.

Jim repeated her name and took another step. Still no response. He wondered if she’d drugged herself up. _“Lana?”_ he pressed.

“What did you plan to do with her?” Her voice startled him. He hadn’t learned it. He was so used to Arthur and no one else, and the beeps and programmed cheer of the virtual interfaces. Another _actual human_ sounded almost _alien._

“What?” he asked.

“With Aurora Lane. What did you plan for her?” Her eyes darted; the first human movement he’d seen from her since she’d entered the concourse.

Jim wet his mouth and swallowed. “I don’t…”

“Was she supposed to warm your bed?” Her eyes moved side to side again before landing on him.

“What? No, I-” Jim sighed. He couldn’t expect her to understand. He’d been alone for a year, whereas _he_ was there when _she_ woke up.

“You thought it would be _perfect?”_ She searched him from the fountain, oblivious to temperature or the repeating automated request to leave. “She’d be your happy little wife?”

“No.” He didn’t know what to expect. Didn’t know how he should answer. “I was _alone._ I needed…”

“A _mate?”_

Jim’s jaw clenched. “A _live person._ Someone to talk to. A _friend.”_

“So you decided to wake a sexy journalist.” Dark satire. “You couldn’t have woken a man? Someone to call _brother?”_

Jim stared, cautious of where she meant to lead this conversation.

“In time, I had hoped something would… come of Aurora being awake. _Yes.”_ He nodded. “There are some things in life a brother just doesn’t fulfill.”

“You woke her for sex.” It wasn’t a question.

“Can I get you some clothes?” he changed the subject with a grimace.

“What’s the point? It’s only you. For the _rest of my life,_ the only person to worry about is _you.”_

“Have you been eating?”

“Why? I won’t live long enough to see my daughter settle in on Homestead anyway.”

“Lana…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Or what he could try without getting attacked. She gave the impression of a wolf baring its teeth.

“What did you plan to tell her? When she asked why no one else was awake?”

Jim hesitated. Was she trying to make him crack? “I don’t know. I’d tell her… in time. Maybe. After she trusted me, I guess.”

She stared. Searched. Analyzed him so hard he thought she was channeling dark energy to punish him. He expected to catch fire any second.

Then her eyes drifted. Roamed the air to observe the concourse around. “How did you do it? I mean, you’re a _mechanic._ You fix… computers and vehicles. _Hardware,_ not software. Hibernation pods are _beyond_ your training.”

Breath left Jim in a sigh so heavy it almost hurt. “There are manuals for everything here.”

“That’s all it takes, huh?” A lame push away from the center of the fountain gave her enough momentum to step out of the water. “A flip through a book, and… just like that. _Long…_ _slow death.”_

“I’m _sorry._ All right? I didn’t…” Jim sighed and dropped his gaze.

“I know. You didn’t mean to wake me.” Wet feet slapped onto the polished floor. “It doesn’t matter who you meant to wake. It happened anyway.”

Jim watched her walk away.

“It doesn’t matter who you meant to kill. The fact is you did it.”

“Lana.”

“If this didn’t mean my daughter wakes up to find my bones, I’d laugh in your face.”

Jim followed wet footsteps up past the crease of her bottom. “Why?” He almost didn’t care what they spoke about. Having a real person talk with him - _a real conversation_ \- it was more than he’d had for almost a year and a half. It was a start back to normality. Back to _life._

“I hate people. I hate being touched.” She stepped into the elevator and met his eyes when she turned. “There is one thing worse than actually being alone.”

“What’s that?”

“Being with people who make you feel alone.”


	3. Chapter 3

_“People who make you feel alone is worse than being alone.”_

 

Jim stared as she disappeared in the elevator. She couldn’t have been closer to the truth. But at the same, she was wrong. _So wrong._ The very presence of another human meant everything to him. It was more than he had the day before she awoke.

It got him thinking. He didn’t know a thing about her other than she resented him and mourned herself for her daughter. And seemed to starve herself. Would he have someone to talk to if he knew about her? Maybe if he understood why she left Earth…

Like Aurora Lane, Lana had a profile vid. But she was private. She didn’t speak much about herself; most of her profile was transcribed. On Homestead, she would be teacher of broad liberal arts and sciences, support staff for technical services and natural medicine. She wanted a fresh start, a place where she could give her daughter a decent chance at life. A place she could use her talents and knowledge without being judged for not having college degrees. Somewhere she could use her skills without discrimination _._

Aside from having a child, her story sounded like Jim’s. Unlike Aurora Lane, Jim could relate without needing to try. Aurora’s writing spoke to him, but he felt Lana’s story long before he read it.

Almost unrecognizable in her vid and pictures compared to the purpose-less, unkempt husk who tried to drown in the concourse fountain.

Or tried to _wake up_ in the fountain.

He also watched her daughter’s vid. The girl made Jim smile. Enthusiastic, excited to go to a new world and live a normal life. Aware enough to know her condition made her stand apart from her peers, to know starting over on a colony not neck-deep in technology and impossible ideals meant she had a chance to have _“actual friends”._ To do things a normal kid her age might do. She was proud of her mom, thought she was funny and silly, smart and brave. Her mom was her favorite person. Eve understood her mom’s efforts in giving her a normal life when Earth said she wasn’t good enough. Her mom was a friend when no one else would be. She’d never been apart from her mom. She said wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Jim stared into the void. Guilt ran over him like a steamroller. He hadn’t meant to wake Lana up. But it was like she said: _It didn’t matter who he targeted, he still killed someone._

He _slow-killed_ someone he never knew existed. And that woman had a daughter who needed her to survive.

Accessing Lana’s file gave him days of new reading material. Categorized under _fanfiction,_ yet better than anything Aurora ever wrote. _Fantasy with life._ Jim found himself anticipating chapters and character choices. Relationships, struggles, romance, humor; some things made him laugh so hard his eyes watered. She also wrote erotica, so descriptive and rhythmic he needed to relieve himself to continue reading, _then read again_. Hope, suspense, plots; distractions from his pointless life. Her work had a unifying theme that stuck out: Community. Friendship. Life. Togetherness.

Things she said she didn’t like.

Things he’d _stolen_ from her when he botched up waking someone else.

… _Was she as lonely as he was?_ Even before he woke her?

What had she said? _People who make you feel alone is worse than being alone._

Jim stared into the void again with a heavy sigh. He didn’t know what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Hands slammed down on the table. Jim jumped and stared. He hadn’t heard her come in with the electric drill a-whirl.

 _“Jesus!”_ he gasped.

“You woke me up. Can you wake up my daughter?” At least she wore clothes today.

“What?” Jim searched her. She _wasn’t_ asking him this.

“My _daughter._ I want you to wake her up. _Please.”_

“Wha-? She’s _twelve._ She’s a _kid.”_

_“And?”_

“She’ll be lucky to still be alive when the crew wakes up.”

“That didn’t stop you from trying to wake Aurora.”

 _“She’s a kid,”_ he repeated. “Lana, I can’t do that to a kid. _Your_ kid. Why- _Why_ do you want me to _slow-kill your kid?”_ he used her words.

“It’s either in here where I can _teach_ her before I die, or out _there_ because she _doesn’t know how_ to survive on her own.”

Jim could only stare. She had a point. But she was asking him to _doom a child_ to certain death. A child who, unlike either of them, had a chance to grow up and be important in a new community. She was asking him to take away her daughter’s _life._

 _“Please?”_ she begged with glassy eyes. “She’s _all_ I _have.”_

“Lana…” Jim wasn’t sure he could do this. It took enough mental flagellation just summoning nerve to wake Aurora. And look how _that_ turned out.

 _“Please?_ James, _please?”_

“It’s Jim,” he corrected without thinking.

 _“Jim,_ then. _Please?”_ She bent to look him in the eye. “I’m not a mechanic. I do _software,_ not -- I don’t know how to work the pod controls.”

“I-” Jim shook his head. “Lana, I _can’t do_ that to a _kid._ I’m _sorry.”_

“I _don’t have_ anyone _else!”_

Jim searched her still, so long she stood up and stepped back with a look of defeat. _“I_ don’t have _anyone.”_

“So _I_ should have to suffer _with_ you?” she asked like he was being unfair.

“I didn’t mean to wake someone with a child.” He couldn’t look at her.

 _“I_ didn’t mean to _have_ children. But I had them anyway.” She pushed her point.

Unintended events still needed accountability. He felt that.

But this was different.

Jim raised his eyes and shook his head. “I won’t do that to anyone else.” She fought a quiver of her bottom lip, and Jim felt his face twist with the pang in his heart. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t apologize enough.

And just like that, she was gone again. Sauntered out sullen and wilted. He did not see her for another week.

  


This was as alarming as her standing naked in the fountain. _No,_ he thought as he approached the cries and the thunks against metal. Jim rushed over to stop her from either breaking the customer service VI or breaking herself. _This was worse._

“Stop stop _stop!_ Lana, _stop_ it! What are you doing?” He struggled to drag her out of reach, then sighed and threw up his hands when she went limp. She slid straight to the floor in a violent sob that filled the concourse with anguish, and Jim sighed again. He had nothing to do but kneel. “Why are you trying to break customer service?”

“It won’t release my daughter’s things!” she wailed, staring at the console like it was possessed. “It won’t give me her things! _I’M HER MOTHER!”_ she screamed at the inactive VI. “I just want her things! I can’t- I _can’t smell_ \- I can’t--”

There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. He knew it would do no good to tell her not to break the console. He couldn’t even hold her. He didn’t _want_ to. Such a shock to see _himself_ and _his fears_ from the past year in another person. In the _only_ person around. A shock to see someone handling it _worse_ than him. Jim didn’t know what to do besides sit there while she cried.

 

 

He didn’t see her again for weeks. A single encounter when he stepped out from the elevator again. Jim stared while she took his place in the elevator. A vacant shell that didn’t bother sitting down even as the loss of gravity warning sounded.

“Hi,” he said. Vacuous even as she met his stare. Then the elevator swallowed her up and she was gone. Again.


	5. Chapter 5

“Why did you shave?” A question out of the blue as Jim walked into the steward’s office.

“What?” He stared from just inside the doorway. He hadn’t seen her for almost four weeks. Now she was sitting before the steward’s computer.

Her head turned. “You shaved. And cut your hair.”

“How do you know that?”

“Security vids.”

“Security vids?” Jim perked up. “You have access to security vids?”

“I’m support staff for Homestead. I’m supposed to mediate if petty crimes can’t…” she looked back at the computer, then hung her head. _“Was_ supposed to help make sure the colony got along. That was supposed to start here, when everyone woke up.”

“And you can see me on the vids?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes shifted back to him, though her head didn’t follow. After a moment, she pointed to the virtual screen. “What’s this?’

His feet moved before he willed them. Jim peered around the desk, looking from Lana to the screen. A still frame of him in his darkest hour: the moment when he stood on precipice of the void. His finger was less than an inch away from opening the airlock.

She’d been watching him. She watched his year alone, watched him depress. Watched him drown in the solitude and despair she now drowned in.

Jim stared at the screen and reminded himself to breathe. He couldn’t look at her, but he felt her. Her eyes bore through him while he stood frozen in his worst memory.

“You didn’t do it.”

Jim forced himself to look over, and found he couldn’t break her gaze. She searched him for something he wasn’t sure he had. “No.”

“Why not?”

He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how. He wasn’t even sure _he_ knew the answer.

“How did you step away?” She sought something in him she couldn’t find in herself.

“I don’t know.”

“But you turned away _before_ you found Aurora. _How?_ How- _why?_ _What happened?”_ Her eyes glossed.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I was alone. I was… scared. I wanted the pain to stop, but I didn’t want to die. I wanted to _live._ I wanted… I don’t want to die alone.”

She looked away. “Hope is that strong for you?”

Jim stared at the back of her head now. “I guess.” He swallowed. “You don’t hope?”

“Hope failed me my entire life. I can’t trust it.”

“You make it sound like hope is a person.”

“Isn’t it?” She paused to resume the security cam. “It eats like people do. It feeds off… despair. It eats the one thing humans never run out of. It’s a character like any other in a story.”

Jim sat on the desk with a sigh. “Have you been sitting here all day? Watching security vids?”

“I come up here a lot.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out what happened. Why you woke up.”

Jim’s senses perked up so fast his skin prickled. “You can see that? Did you find it?”

“No. I only have access to common areas. It must have happened somewhere else.”

Jim watched her bring up and slow footage of him reading, of him sitting by Aurora’s pod every day, of him reading at the bar.

“Who is this?” Lana pointed to the bartender.

“Arthur?” Jim glanced from the screen to her. “He’s a machine. You haven’t been down to the bar?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of _androids?”_

She hesitated. “Of not being able to turn away in time.”

Jim could only stare. She avoided the bar to avoid something that might make her open the airlock.

“You loved her?” she asked as she went fast forwarded footage of Jim leaving his room with bags. She paused the frame when Jim knelt at Aurora’s pod.

Jim watched the screen. “I think so.”

She huffed. “You got stuck with _me.”_

“I’m trying not to think about her. I made a mistake.”

“Tampering with things not meant for machine doctors.”

Jim sighed again. “I’m sorry, Lana. I _am._ I can’t-”

“Don’t. There’s no point. You can’t reverse it.”

He didn’t know what to say. She was right. Jim sighed again and stood, and walked around the desk. She was right about a lot of things.

“So why did you shave?”

Jim looked back, and his feet stopped. “I needed a change. I-” he sighed again. “Wanted to look presentable.”

“For her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

“Beards aren’t presentable?’ she asked. Behind the profile of her straight nose, her eyes darted.

“It looked dirty. I _felt_ dirty. I was about to wake up-” he cut himself off again.

“You thought a beard would disgust a pretty girl from New York.”

“Yeah. And… I was losing myself. I’d _lost_ myself. I didn’t like the man who wore the beard,” he told her. He leaned his head to look better when she didn’t answer. “Don’t tell me you _like_ beards?”

From the corner of her eye, she frowned at him. “It has to be _unnatural_ to like a _natural_ part of the body?” He’d offended her.

“No, I- _no,_ that’s not what I meant.”

“Why must it be a _fetish_ for people to enjoy a natural part of the body that signifies _maturity?_ ”

“So you _do_ like beards.”

“I can’t grow one of my own.” She paused a frame from before he began drowning in loneliness. “Maybe I get stupid jealous,” she muttered.

Was she joking?

She was. She made a joke.

“You want to grow a beard?” He couldn’t say it without a smile. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard since he woke up.

“There.” She pointed to a frame. Jim stepped closer again to look. “That’s a good look for you.” She meant his month-long beard.

Jim stared at her once more. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He watched her while she fast-forwarded almost a year before she shut down the computer and sat back. “Have you eaten today?”

“No.”

“When did you last eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, you gotta be. You’re wasting away. You weren’t this--” he broke off again. Reminding her she was thrice as big when she awoke wouldn’t help anything. She’d called herself horrible names when she found out he meant to wake a thinner, younger woman.

“I think it’s my pills. But I couldn’t eat before them. I’m… it will only drag out my eminent death. I’d rather not.”

“Pills?”

“I take pills for panic attacks and anxiety. And other stuff.”

“Do they help?”

“No. Not here.”

Jim thought a moment. He suspected she continued taking the pills to waste further away. But he didn’t _want_ her to waste away. She was the _only_ person he’d see for the rest of his life. “Can I convince you join me for a drink?”

She peeked at him with one eye. “I’m not the one you want to drink with. Remember? _Wrong pod.”_

Guilt cut through him all over again. “I can’t take that back. I’m _sorry,_ I am.” His chest sunk in a sigh when she didn’t respond. “You won’t even try it once? You won’t _try_ to make the best of it?”

“Make the best of always knowing my daughter will wake up alone in a crowd unaware how to take care of herself? You want me to aim for fun while knowing every day I’m awake means her failure on Homestead?”

“I can’t wake a child, Lana, I’m _sorry._ As much as you want to see her again, I _won’t._ In fifty or so years when we die, _then_ what? Then _she’ll_ be alone, _and_ may not live to see Homestead. At least she has a chance this way,” he told her. “You can leave… _instructions_ for her. I don’t know. But I can’t - I _won’t_ wake up a child.”

“But it’s _my decision,_ not yours. _I’m_ her mother.”

“Would it _stop_ at her?” He tried to read her face from the side. “In ten years when she realizes her mom will die before anyone wakes up, who will be next? You don’t think _she’ll_ get lonely? Maybe _she won’_ t be able to turn away from the airlock. She’ll watch her _mom die,_ after all. I’ve seen your vids. You’re her whole life, she’ll be devastated _and_ alone-”

“Like me?”

This was frustrating. _She_ was frustrating. Jim stared, nostrils flaring with sharp breath. “You _really_ want to do that to your _daughter?”_

Her head fell away with a heavy, unstable quake of her chest.

“At least this way, we can - _you_ can leave a message for the crew. We’ll tell them what happened, tell them about your daughter. There are _five thousand passengers_ on this ship. _Someone_ has to be able to help her get on her feet.”

“So I’m just supposed to _die_ with you?” Her eyes flew over like bullets.

“I can’t say enough how sorry I am. All right?”

“Would you have apologized to Aurora?”

Jim stood taken aback. “Yes.” He hung his own head. _“If_ she found out.”

A laugh of scorn fell from her mouth. _“God,_ you’re _such_ a _gentleman.”_

 _“Look.”_ His tone must have been demanding because she turned her head; he disgusted her. “I’m _not_ asking you to marry me. I’m not asking for _sex._ I’m just…” he shrugged and gestured off. “Whether we like it or not, we’re the _only_ two people awake. It _sucks_ being alone. _I know._ I know better than _you._ Would it really hurt to… act like _neighbors,_ even?” he shrugged again. _“’Hey, neighbor, let’s go get a drink!’”_ he voiced a would-be scenario. “Would it be _bad_ to be _friends?”_

“People like you and people like me _aren’t friends.”_ She shook her head and watched the security cam again.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“We’re on different ends of the spectrum. _You_ clearly _need_ people, but _I’m_ antisocial. I _hate_ crowds, I _hate_ being touched. I’m a _fucking introvert,_ all right? Being social _exhausts_ me and I spend the next however many fucking hours trying to find myself again. I prefer _video games_ and _books_ to real people, and I’m _fine_ with that. I can _live_ with that.”

“But you can’t live without your _daughter,_ apparently,” he observed.

Her eyes narrowed. “And _you’re_ just the average good-looking asshole who _filtered_ through _pods_ until you found the _prettiest_ one to wake. _Regardless_ of how _she_ would feel when you woke her.”

“Okay, first off, you’re the _only_ person who’s ever called me an _average good-looking asshole._ I’m a _mechanic,_ for God’s sake. We’re an _overlooked species_ on Earth, right down there with the struggling artists and middle-aged fast food cashiers. Homestead was going to be a new start for _me,_ too,  _not_ just you.” He stopped again, not wanting to argue. This was the _only_ real person he had to talk to. He couldn’t jeopardize it. He swallowed, and blinked. Then met her eyes, hoping to change up the tone. “You think I’m good-looking?”

She rolled her eyes and spun the chair around, putting her back between them.

_Not as he hoped._

Jim sighed and nodded. “All right. Well, I’ll be in the bar later if you feel like company. I’m sure you’ll see me on the security vid.”

 

He waited for her. He thought he might show. It _felt_ like she would walk in any minute. But she never did. Arthur assured him Lana just needed time. In a sense, she’d just lost her daughter; that wasn’t easy to deal with.

But she never showed. The disappointment surprised Jim. Here _at last_ was another real, live person. And she wanted nothing to do with him.

And like before, no sign of her for weeks. She wasn’t even in the steward’s office. It was like she was always a step ahead of him.

 _Always waiting_ for the only person drove his anxiety to roof. Would the rest of his life be like this?


	6. Chapter 6

Jim reached up to stretch as a yawn governed his face. But his arm hit something. Surprised, unexpected, he yanked away with caught breath. And stared.

There she was. Still, quiet. _In his bed._

“Lana?”

_Still._

Oh shit, was she dead? He reached over and poked her cheek. A twitch of her head almost made him yell.

Jim sighed and fell back on his pillow. _Fucking fuck._ What the hell was she doing here? He hadn’t seen her in _months._ He looked over again. Lana closed her mouth and continued sleeping. Leaning over revealed a wet stain beneath her face.

She’d cried herself to sleep. On _his bed?_

Jim sat up on the edge of his bed for who knew how long. He rubbed his face, sighed, looked back at Lana, rubbed his face again, looked back again. Pulled the blankets up over her. She still hadn’t woken when his shower ended. Jim stared down at her for another long moment. He thought back to their talk weeks ago, and her stories. To whatever darkness made her need pills and want to starve.

Maybe loneliness was getting too much for her? Unlike Jim, she had someone available if she got lonely. Jim held out so long because he’d had no choice, but her… if she really didn’t like people, trying to live the life she led on Earth wasn’t working for her now. Everyone had a breaking point; this ship taught Jim that. She wasn’t the woman he’d meant to wake by far. But she’d fallen asleep in his bed for a reason.

Jim scribbled a note and left it on his pillow. _Maybe,_ he thought as he strode from his room, _things would be different._

_Maybe he wouldn’t be so lonely anymore._

 

 

“I’m sorry.”

Jim looked over as he picked up his tray and stood. “Good morning.” He sounded far more cheerful than she seemed ready for. He hesitated when her brows flinched. “What… why are you sorry?”

Her head hung towards the floor as she walked. She was barefoot, but dressed this time, as opposed to last time he saw her in the concourse. “I should have asked first.”

“Oh.” Sleeping in his bed.

“I’m just -” choppy breath cut her off. She swallowed and inhaled deep. “It was late, and… I’m sorry. You were already asleep.” A hand reached up and wiped her eyes. “I just… needed to be near a-- heartbeat.”

_A heartbeat._

Jim understood that. He set his tray back down. “Do you drink coffee?”

Her eyes drifted. “They have coffee?”

“Yep.” He gestured to the dispenser.

After a moment of hard thought and deep brows, she turned and stood before the interface.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked.

She paused. “I said your name. You didn’t wake up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that.” Her shoulders leaned as she pushed a button

Jim smiled in irony as the dispenser verified a _Gold Class latte._ “I know. I mean it, though.”

She hesitated before sliding into the seat across from him. “Me, too. I won’t… come into your room again.” The first sip of coffee brought tears to her eyes.

Jim pushed his tray away. “You came in _just_ to sleep next to me?”

Without looking up, she nodded. “I thought it would be different.”

“What would be?”

“On Earth, I couldn’t wait to get away from people. A half-hour trip to the grocery _drained_ me. Too many people, too much…” she winced. “Drama. Political correctness. Pride and vanity and _entitlement._ Fucking society at its _best._ It’s _loud_ and it’s _everywhere_ on Earth. I just wanted to be alone. But it’s _so different_ here. There’s no one here. There’s… a _void._ _Nothing._ No one coughs, no one- no _footsteps._ No-- _nothing.”_ Her arm shook raising the coffee mug to her mouth. “My _own heartbeat_ sounds alien here.”

“Alien.” He didn’t mean to echo. But she nailed it on the head. “That’s _exactly_ how it feels.”

She almost didn’t glance at him. The coffee made a little noise on its way into her mouth, cutting the silence around them..

“You’re really smart.”

She paused in mid-drink to stare at him.

“I read your bio. Your passenger file.” He shook his head with a wince. That sounded creepy. “You’re going to teach. Right?”

She still searched like she didn’t understand his words.

“I’m sorry. Was that personal?”

Dusky lashes blinked long and slow. “I can’t complain. Can I? I’ve watched everywhere you’ve been this past year.”

“Can you do that from your cabin?”

She paused again and her eyes darted, facing her coffee. “I don’t know. I don’t spend much time there.”

“You don’t go in your cabin?” he asked.

She took so long to start speaking Jim opened his mouth to apologize. “It’s a family apartment,” she muttered. “It was decorated for my daughter. I can’t go in there without…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Yeah.”

“So where do you sleep?”

Another long pause. “Sometimes I don’t. I only know what day it is if I can’t go any farther forward in time on the security vids.”

Jim could only stare. _“I’m_ here,” he offered. He wasn’t sure what he was offering. But he was.

Their eyes met over her Gold Class coffee. She didn’t speak again for so long Jim thought he’d said the wrong thing.

He seemed to do that by standing in her sight alone, though.

“Are you losing yourself again?” she asked.

“What?” He searched her, confused this time. He asked this a lot around her.

“You said you couldn’t find yourself under the beard.”

“Oh, my beard. No.” Jim shook his head, then met her eyes. “You said it was a good look for me.”

“You’re growing it out for _me?”_ She didn’t believe him, or thought he was delusional.

“Since you like beards, I assume it makes me more personable. Right?”

“Personable.” They echoed each other a lot, also. “Personable for who?”

“You.” He shrugged. “There’s no one _else_ here.”

“I can’t be your friend.”

 _“Why_ can’t we be friends? What else are we going to do?”

She stared like she didn’t comprehend this concept.

“Why did you come into my room if you don’t want to be friends?”

“If I give in and accept this, I’m- I _fail_ my _daughter._ I _have_ an _obligation._ I _can’t_ just… _do_ this. I _can’t accept_ this.”

“So why did you come into my room? _Why_ sleep next to me?”

She stared like it hurt. Pain and confusion. With a staggered deep breath, her head turned away. A single blink brought a rush of gloss to her eyes.

“I came here to apologize.” She sank back into her chair.

“I’m sorry.”

“This is still your fault.”

“You don’t need to remind me. I _know._ I remember every time I see you.”

“You see why I can’t just _move on.”_

“I had a plan, too,” he reminded her. “We _all_ do. Every passenger on this ship had a plan for a new life.”

“Every passenger on this ship didn’t try to play God and screw it up.”

“Lana.” He couldn’t hide this cut him.

_“Jim.”_

_“Why_ did you sleep _next_ to me, then?” he repeated.

 _“You’re_ all I have to run to when I need _life._ You’re the only one here. I don’t--” her eyes darted. “I don’t _have options._ I don’t have a _choice.”_

“I’m a last resort?”

“You’re the _only_ resort.”

He watched her. Like so many times, he stared while she stared into the void of her life. Her own darkness.

“I don’t have anyone else.”

“Then how can I help you pass the time?” he offered.

She raised her eyes and shook her head. “If I pass the time, I help myself die.”

“You’re _my_ only choice, _too,_ you know. I didn’t have _any_ choices till you woke up.”

Her eyes moved to each of his. “You’re welcome.” Grim and satire.

“Ouch.” He stared back.

She glanced away before sliding out her chair.

“What happens if _I_ need someone to sleep next to?”

“You’ll have to tell me ahead of time. I don’t know where I sleep half the time.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as she walked off.

“I don’t know.”

He stood again as she began down the stairs. “Will you sleep in my room tonight? Again?” he asked.

She paused. “Maybe. I just had coffee for the first time in thirty-four years. I might not sleep for a month, now.”


	7. Chapter 7

Two weeks, this time.

She wasn’t seen or heard for two weeks. By far the shortest time Jim hadn’t seen her. She halted his feet as soon as he stepped onto the concourse. _Naked as possible._ She looked lost again. Distracted.

_And naked._

“Uh… hello,” Jim announced himself.

She stopped and looked around in uneven movement, like she had trouble locating his voice. “Hi.”

“Um…” He gestured to her, clearing his throat to stall. “You’ve been, uh, working out.” Loose skin from rapid weight loss was almost shrunk down. She was... kind of attractive now.

“Does kicking stuff count?”

He kept his eyes on hers and forced a smile. “Sure it does.” A short pause. “Where are your clothes?”

“I changed meds three days ago. It’s too hot for clothes.” Her eyes darted and she started off toward the stairs. “I’m sweating everywhere, it’s disgusting. Is there ice water up there?”

“Uh… yeah. Yes there is.” He let her gain distance before he began again. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re just a… what are those hippie people with lots of hair who go nude everywhere? Naturalist! Are you a Naturalist?”

“It’s _hot.”_

“Sure. Right.” He nodded.

But it felt awkward. She stood at the dispenser searching, and... _she was naked._ Very naked.

“If you’re going to be out and about, can you… put on clothes? Please?”

“I’m burning up. Why don’t _you_ take _off_ your clothes?”

Jim stared at her. “But I’m not burning up.”

“What, you can’t _pretend_ to be hot?” She glanced at him as three frosty bottles rolled down.

Jim already kicked himself for considering this. “All right, _fine._ I’ll be… a _Naturalist_ with you today.”

 _She_ looked taken aback when he began unbuttoning his shirt; the first emotion aside panic or depression. She grabbed her frosted water and turned to a table.

“What?” Jim watched her as he shrugged out of his his shirts. “Never seen a man undress before? This was _your_ idea, you know.”

“It was _rhetorical_ to stop your complaining.”

“A rhetorical invitation to strip.” Though her back was turned, Jim looked away, part of him shy. The other part wanted to prove he wasn’t a coward. With a deep breath, he unzipped his trousers and pushed.

“I’m not joking, I feel like a sauna inside.” She paused to chug half a bottle of water. The crane of her neck tilted her hips, changing the shape before him.

And Jim froze. No human contact for over a year, now this. A naked, beautiful shape within reach… and he was getting naked with her.

He had to give himself a mental slap to stay focused. “It’s your anxiety pills making you hot? Making you _feel_ hot _inside?”_ he corrected too quick.

“I don’t know. I’m on a handful of pills a day.”

“A _handful?_ What for? Wait, sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” Jim took a deep breath and stepped away from his clothes. _“Well…”_ he made a noise in his cheeks. “Now we’re both in our birthday suits…” He gathered his clothing before the sweeper bots rolled up, and set them on the table. And dared himself to look at her.

He wasn’t prepared for her reaction. She stared, failing where he forced himself to overcome, surveyed him from head to foot. She didn’t seem to expect it. Didn’t expect _him,_ or maybe a body. A _real_ body. Almost longing, yet not lust.

 _“Hey._ Eyes up _here,_ lady,” he teased to alleviate the awkwardness. Her gaze flew to his. Jim huffed, embarrassed. “Sorry. I was trying to be funny. Uh…” he looked around. Any more inappropriate jokes, and he’d roast, himself. “Will you eat with me?”

She blinked, trying to focus on his eyes. “Eat naked?”

Jim shrugged. “Why not? We’re already naked, and food’s right here.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He shifted, and held his hands in front of his groin. “When did you last eat?”

“The night I woke up. I tried to eat.” Her eyes waded at his shoulders and chest. The longer she stared, the more apparent _longing_ showed on her face. Jim now understood she hadn’t seen the shoulders of a man in too long.

The shoulders of someone big enough to hold a woman.

Solitude was getting to her.

“Tried?” he echoed.

Despair returned to her face. “My _daughter’s_ not… _I_ should pig out?”

 _“Lana.”_ She couldn’t see the bigger picture around her. “She’s in _hibernation._ You’re not depriving her by sustaining yourself. How…” Jim thought for a second. _“How_ are you getting through each day if you don’t eat?”

“I’m on a lot of pills. Some require me to take supplements. Vitamins.”

“Okay, I know I said you didn't have to answer, but what are you taking and why? _Why_ do you need so many meds?” It couldn’t be worth it if they made her starve to death.

“The auto-doc has me on pills for anxiety, panic attacks, ant-” she breathed. “For depression. Um, asthma medicine, and… other things. Some of them cancel out each other, and I have to take supplements for half.”

“Why did Homestead send you out here with so many problems?” he asked.

“They didn’t. I asked for it. I bargained with the government. I had something they needed. I’m out here for free, and… my asthma and anxiety, and other things, make me a perfect test subject for colonial adaptation of ment- minor mental challenges.”

“You had something they needed? Like what?”

Her eyes darted. “Plans for a self-sustaining space ark that runs on radiation.”

“Holy cow. How did you get that?”

“I made it. My point is, even if I was _wanted_ to eat, I’m not hungry. I take a cup of pills twice a day.”

“You won’t even _try_ to eat?”

 _“Why,_ when I haven’t felt hungry at all?”

Jim stared at her. “Then… will you sit with me while _I_ eat? You can… take two sips of your coffee, like before, and I’ll…” he shrugged.

“While we’re naked?” she asked in doubt.

He forced himself to hold her eyes. “Not much of a choice when you can’t stand clothes.”

“Have you eaten naked before?”

He thought for a second. “Sort of. I went for a month without pants.”

Her eyes flew away. “Yeah, I saw that,” she mumbled.

Embarrassment reflexes willed him to smile, but he tried not to. “Okay, then. I’m…” He turned and gestured. “I’m gonna eat.”

He felt her eyes on him. The female voice on the dispenser announced his _Standard Breakfast_ as loud as ever in the empty hall. Jim remembered Lana could buy _Gold Class_ food and cringed in his head. She already judged him for waking her up, for _trying_ to wake up _Aurora._ He didn’t look at her as he set his tray down and sat, or when she ordered an iced _Gold Class_ chai latte, but he felt her eyes still. Worse, the chair was cold, and his naked balls touching down drew a hiss.

She stared across the table as she set her latte down. “Do you eat that every day?”

“Nope. Sometimes it’s oatmeal, sometimes it’s a boiled egg, and sometimes it’s oat cakes.”

“That’s it? _Oats?_ Every day for a whole year?”

Jim looked up. “You’re concerned about what I eat, but you won’t eat?” he asked.

She frowned, and blinked. “What do you want?”

“I’m good.” He shrugged and gestured to his cold cereal.

She blinked again, her facade flattening.

“All right, geez. I accidentally woke up my _mother,”_ he muttered.

“In that case, you’re grounded.” She walked back to the machine. “For _six weeks,_ young man. Now tell me what you want.”

The smile broke out before he knew what was happening. “Whatever you can afford is fine. Thank you.” He glanced over.

“I don’t pay for anything here. I traded a valuable secret, remember?” She pushed a button, then another, and the dispenser verified _Gold Class breakfast_ and _Mocha Cappuccino Extreme._

Jim sighed in relief under his breath when she slid the new tray afore him. “Thank you,” he repeated, watching her set the mocha down. He had to force it out. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so humbled. He tried to avoid looking at her bare chest while she sat. “You’re really not going to eat?”

“No.”

His brows crinkled in thought. “But coffee speeds up your heart rate. Wouldn’t that make you even hotter?”

“I cheated.” She pointed to the ice in her cup. “Does it count as eating when my latte has milk and sugar?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “You can’t live off lattes.” Jim put a chunk of fruit in his mouth and winced before he knew to stop it. He hadn’t tasted anything so sweet and flavorful since before hibernation.

“You should have said something.” When Jim looked up, Lana kept her eyes to her coffee.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he admitted. “Meal selections seem pretty trivial to… what’s happened since you woke up…”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I also didn’t know.”

Lana took another drink of her iced latte, then pushed it away and downed the rest of the open bottle of water. “I need a towel.” She stood up. “I’m fucking _pooling_ on the _chair.”_

Mouth full of fruit, Jim broke down in giggles and almost choked. He couldn’t stop it. Embarrassed for laughing at such a thing, embarrassed for giggling like a child, and he could only hide his face in his hand. When she asked if she could sit on his shirt, he nodded and waved, unable to do anything else.

“So…” He sat back and composed the last of his unmanly giggles. “If you don’t pay for anything, who gets billed?”

“Earth. The US government, to be exact. It’s like an open tab.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“So… you could run the US into debt while you’re on board?”

She searched his eyes. Beads of sweat dotted her face with each passing minute. “That’s quite a thought. And everyone in the White House, now, will be _dead_ by the time they get the bill. Let’s hope they leave a memo for their successors.”

Jim felt his cheeks stretch in a grin. “Is there a downside?”

Her eyes strayed. _“I’ll_ be dead, _too.”_

Just like that, fun streaked away like a spooked doe. Jim dropped his gaze and stabbed his eggs. _Always_ reminded he made a the biggest mistake of her life.

“Maybe I’m pushing my luck,” he began after a long pause, “but… can we do something together?”

 _“What?”_ She didn’t understand.

“Can I do something with you?”

She stared again, blinked again. “Something other than this?”

“Yeah.” He held her gaze. “Please?”

Her brows tightened in suspicion. “Why?”

“For _this._ For…a _second_ ago. I…” A heavy sigh sunk his chest. He knew how it must look. “I’m _lonely._ Okay?” It was hard saying this aloud. It was hard telling the only other person awake. “I… _need_ someone to talk to. I need- _this._ You know?” Jim gestured between them. Rejection began settling the longer she didn’t reply. “I’ve been alone for a _long time. Please.”_ He couldn’t believe he was begging for friendship. When she remained quiet, he sat back. “I can’t distract myself here. I’ve _tried._ I’ve done all the games, I - I talk to _Arthur_ every day. It’s not the same. I don’t remember the last time I laughed. I haven’t _felt_ like laughing for...” He shook his head. “I couldn’t have laughed without you.”

“You can’t have fun with yourself?” she asked. “I mean, like your imagination? You aren’t comfortable with your mind?”

He stared at her. “You’ve been awake nine months. Do _you_ remember what a hug feels like?”

She sat back with a frown and tried to hide a pout.

“I’m not- I’m _not asking_ you for a _hug._ All right? I want to make that clear. But I _am_ asking to _do_ things with you. Like… eating together, and…” his eyes moved in thought. “The _bar,_ or… even walking around together. _Normal_ things.”

“I don’t want this ship to feel _normal,_ Jim. I want to get back into hibernation and wake up with my daughter.”

“And that’s _fine._ Maybe you’ll find something I didn’t. I’ll even _help_ you, we’ll pool our knowledge. Two heads, right? But can’t we do normal stuff _between_ that? Can’t we sit together over food? Can’t we _talk_ and _laugh_ sometimes?”

“I don’t laugh.” She spoke up with a long blink when Jim opened his mouth. “What could we even do?”

Jim smiled, grateful she was considering. “Well, there’s the dance-off-”

 _“No.”_ A sharp slant of her head.

Jim huffed. “Really? Not even once?” She bit her lips and shook her head with a big _N-O_ in her eyes. _“Okay._ Um, there’s a theater-”

“Movies? Or plays?”

“Movies. Do robots _do_ theater?”

Her eyes darted. “Maybe you could program some to.”

“I’m not that kind of engineer.”

“What kind of movies do they have? Any sci-fi? Or fantasy?”

“A little of everything. Three of every rating.”

“Every rating?” Her eyes flew to his. No laughter maybe, but humor.

Another smile spread before he could stop it. “No porn. Sorry.”

“Good to know you checked.”

He smiled wider. She was all right. When she wasn’t pushing him away or avoiding him, she could be pleasant. Even small moments like this made a huge difference. He never had this before she awoke. Jim felt like he’d cry trying to thank her if she kept this up. Life almost felt _normal_ again.

“What else is there besides movies and dancing?” She opened another water and chugged. As if the water seeped right back through her skin, beads of sweat returned and grew. At some angles he couldn’t see it, but when she moved, sweat was obvious. Her skin glistened as if she sat in tropical mist.

Jim was about to suggest the fountain again when he remembered something better. “There’s a pool.”

This perked her up. She searched his eyes for a moment. “Is it cold?”

He nodded. “Well, _cool._ Like any other indoor pool.” He watched her eyes move in thought. “You know, it’s kind of hard to stay focused with your nipples right there,” he tried to get her to smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “They don’t detach. You’ll have to make peace with them where they are.” She didn’t smile, but she made Jim smile. “Will you judge me if I swim naked?”

His brows leapt. “You’re sitting naked in the cafeteria soaking my shirt with sweat,” he reminded her.

“Touché.” She sat forward, wetting her lips, and drank another long chug of chilled water. “Hurry up and eat.”

“Maybe you should switch medication?” Jim asked as she wiped another swell of sweat from her face.

“Maybe.”

The longer they walked, the less uncomfortable he felt naked with her. “How long have you been taking the pills for… depression and panic attacks?” But he felt he already knew the answer.

“Since I woke up. Most of what I’m taking, I’ve only taken here.”

“Maybe… this is none of my business,” he said, “but would it help to eat?” He shrugged when she stared up at him. “Maybe you wouldn’t need the supplements? Wouldn’t that help? I mean, you’re sweating a _lot.”_

She frowned. “Do I stink?”

He sniffed the air. “No.” He met her eyes. “But that can’t be normal.”

“No. Normally I’m hard to sweat.”

Jim hesitated with a hand on door to the pool. “Will you eat with me tonight?”

She frowned again. _“Actually eat?”_ she grimaced. Good sense of humor for someone who never laughed.

“Right. Last year’s fashion, right?” He gestured into the pool hall. “Think about it?” he requested.

“Maybe.”

She froze at the pool’s edge. The spherical window straight ahead revealed space outside the ship. Stars among blackness. If they were awake only four months like the rest of the passengers would be, the view would be lovely. Jim looked at his only neighbor, said her name. With uneven breath and repeated blinks, she dove. Legs and arms kicked and splashed like her life depended on it until she pressed up against the window. And stared, frozen again.

Jim dropped in and swam over, slowing as he approached. Her palms pressed so hard her hands were white, her face so close she steamed the window. He couldn’t tell if she was upset or awed.

“I used to wish for an apocalypse,” she said. Her eyes zipped before her.

“You wished for an apocalypse?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “On Earth. Something that would wipe almost everyone out. Because it would let me and my daughter have what we wanted. I mean-” a large steam stain blossomed with a deep breath, “I couldn’t afford toys for her. Books. I couldn’t afford to take her to movies she wanted to see. I was a wel-” Her lip took pout as her eyes flooded. A long blink spilled a tear. “I was on _food stamps,”_ it came out a scant whisper with a cringe “- and I’d exhausted my share of state aid. I couldn’t afford anything for my daughter. An apocalypse would’ve given me the chance to get her toys she wanted. While survivors scrambled for food, I could let her pick out toys to her heart’s content. I could give her ways to use her imagination. A way to _imagine_ she was in a _wonderful, perfect, happy_ world. But then this…” Wiping tears away with a wet hand was pointless. “I also used to dream of living in space.”

“Right. You’re supposed to teach astronomy,” he recalled from her profile.

“I have both, now, in a sense. And I _hate_ it.” She didn’t bother wiping her tears this time. “All this space I thought was… _breathtaking_ from Earth only _magnifies_ the emptiness. There’s _nothing out_ here. I thought - I _hoped_ when I lived in space, there would be people _. Races,_ a _community._ Things to do. New cultures, new opportunities. New friends to meet. _Proper_ friends to meet. Maybe… proper love, for once. I hoped there would be people out here to show Earth just how _petty_ it is. But there’s _nothing._ So far away, and there’s _nothing.”_ Her hands slid down the window. “I feel more alone now than I did a week ago.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. She might have pulled the words from his heart the day he went out in the space suit. Such a beautiful galaxy, but it made him feel more alone than ever. A sight best admired from the security of a planet when he had no one to share it with. An astronomical void that reached inside his heart and exposed his loneliness all around him. It painted every stab of heartache to the letter.

“And when the rest of the ship wakes up, they won’t ever know how lucky they are. They’ll never have to feel how _empty_ this place is. How empty the _universe_ is.”

“You’ll have one thing they’ll never get to see, though,” he said. Jim agreed with her every word. But he didn’t want to dwell on it and hurt. The point of having someone was to not hurt anymore.

“What one thing?” she asked.

He shrugged the best he could with his arms afloat. “None of them will ever see my bare ass in this pool.” Her eyes flew so fast they turned her head. Jim tried not to laugh. “Lucky you,” he teased.

“That’s not true. I could find it on the security cams. I could share screenshots to every room on this ship in seconds.”

“Well, that’s just not very nice.” It took far too much effort not to smile.

“I have to be _nice_ in this friendship-thing?” She held straight faces far better than him.

“Those are the rules.” He couldn’t help but smile. He liked this side of her. Even if she didn’t smile, it was good to see her relax. It turned her into a person he could enjoy life with; for once. It changed the atmosphere of the whole ship. “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s… personal. In a way.”

“I guess.”

“What do you miss most right now? I mean, besides your daughter.” The lights in below water almost made her eyes look like another pool. _“I_ miss...” he looked away. “People. Someone to talk to, and joke with. I miss… flirting, and kissing. I miss _warmth,_ like when you stand so close to someone you can feel their body heat.” He found her eyes again. “What do _you_ miss most about people?”

“Right now?” She looked back out into space. _“Skin._ The current that follows groups of people. _Voices.”_ She pushed away from the window from underwater. “I miss accidentally bumping into people on busy streets. And standing in line at the grocery because some idiot can’t work the self-checkout. And I miss music. And birds chirping so loud you can’t hear someone in the same room.”

He smiled at memory. “Then that look they give you after you yell at the birds to shut up.”

A laugh escaped as a cough. “Yeah.”

Jim stared and couldn’t stop. She knew everything he felt. She felt his _needs._ The _darkness._ She’d lived everything he’d gone through alone. _She understood his struggle_ _._ “You said you’d hoped to find _proper friends_ and _proper love,”_ he echoed. “What does that mean?”

“You know… people who don’t abandon you or talk shit when you go through something they don’t understand.” She ducked to wet her face and hair. “Lovers who don’t _only_ want sex. Lovers who are also friends, not just… someone to fuck each night before disappearing for the day again. Everyone on Earth says they’re not like the rest, even people who _aren’t_ trying to get laid. It’s felt like it’s too much to ask for honesty and accountability. Or even _logic.”_ She paused. “I have two children, different fathers, I’ve never been married, and their fathers were not around when I was pregnant.”

“Two? Where’s your other child?” he asked.

“Earth. He’ll… he’s probably older than me, now. I… haven’t seen him since he was six.”

“I’m sorry. That can’t be- that was a bad question. Sorry.”

“Do you have kids?”

“No. Jim Preston wasn’t very popular on Earth,” he admitted. “No one pays attention to an unneeded mechanic. Nothing lasted long for me, either.” For a moment, the only sound in the room was the water that sloshed between their fingers as they waded afloat. “Do you know any pool games?”

“Besides Marco Polo?” She stared him dead in the eyes in doubt.

Jim chuckled. “Marco Polo. I think I played that in _grade_ school.”

“I _watched_ kids play that in grade school.”

“Maybe there’s a storage unit of pool toys I missed.” He looked around. “Or virtual volleyball.” He repelled when his hand grazed her shoulder. “Sorry, I’m so sorry!” he gushed, trying to smooth her shoulder from his nail scrape. Then he remembered. “Shit, I’m sorry! No touching! _God.”_ He pushed further away. “I’m sorry.”

But he didn’t know else to respond. _She_ didn’t respond. Lana stared down at her shoulder, not blinking, not breathing. Jim opened his mouth to apologize again, but her gaze cut him off. He couldn’t read her face. She just stared, resumed breath through her mouth, wincing as the moment played on, though he still couldn’t read her.

He felt he’d screwed up. Right at the moment his loneliness might cease forever, he crossed her boundaries. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

She shook her head and moved away. He watched her hair start ripples behind her. “It’s okay.” She shook her head before ducking under water and swimming below. She resurfaced before the steps and walked up. “Night, Jim.”

Then she was gone again.

A needed breakthrough spoiled by an unintentional breaking of boundaries. Alone again. Not his choice, again.


	8. Chapter 8

Two days later, she was there again. In his room. She said his name while he was in the shower and startled him so hard he almost fell.

 _“Jesus! Lana!”_ He covered his crotch and watched her between streams of water rolling down over his head. He wasn’t awake enough for surprise visits when he was so vulnerable. It even took him a moment to remember they’d walked the ship naked together.

She stood there in his bathroom, eyes locked on his. Trembling, cheeks raw and shiny, mouth in full pout and swollen from tears. Her entire countenance sagged, making her look more lost than ever. Every breath came in a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He moved water from his face but didn’t leave the stream.

“Can I come in there?” her voice broke.

 _“What?_ In _here? Now?”_

 _“Please?”_ Her gaze dipped only for a moment, spilling tears when their eyes met again. “I need- I just n--” She couldn’t even finish. She was so distraught she couldn’t finish.

Jim looked around his small shower. An odd time and place to want to be with someone out of the blue. But she _was_ here, needing something from him. As soon as he said _Yes,_ she began undressing. She struggled yanking off her shirt, almost fell trying to get out of her pants. So anguished she tripped over the rim of the shower floor. Jim had no choice but to uncover himself to catch her.

“Hey.” He held her elbows while she clung to him. Eyes bloodshot and baggy, panicking again over something he couldn’t see. “What? What’s going on?”

She stared up into his eyes before realizing where her hands were. Breath halted as she stared, then returned so hard she made noise. Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to stop crying, but it didn’t stop her eyes from filling. She pressed on him, squeezed his shoulders, raked her fingers through his chest hair. Her hands never left her line of sight; not there for sex, it seemed. Every stretch of skin she felt, her face pinched more and more tears rolled.

And the sensation put him beside himself. Stimulated for the first time since he woke up. A year and nine months without even a handshake, and _now this. Hands. Skin._ It tingled a trail to the tips of his toes and stole his breath. Her name fell from his tongue in a murmur. _More. He needed more._

He didn’t have to ask her. She never stopped. Touched him like she hadn’t seen him naked before, like she’d never seen skin before. She grabbed, _felt,_ tried to hold on places she couldn’t, held his shoulders like she thought he might leave if she let go. She didn’t try to have sex, didn’t pluck or reach south, she only felt. Stared like tried to memorize. As soon as Jim ran his hands up to return the affection, she broke down. Buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried, cringed, and her hands slid around under his arms. She braced his back, pushing herself into him till her body smashed against him.

And Jim held her. Cradled her, squeezed till he couldn’t tighten his arms anymore. He closed his eyes and laid his head on hers, and they did not move. Her tears were cool on his skin through the hot shower. He didn’t _want_ to move. He couldn’t risk the moment.

Gasps that jerked him slowed to full, even breath in his arms. She moved her head, nestled like she wanted to sink in him. Jim rubbed her back, massaging to feel the body in his arms, to prove to himself the moment was real. When he pressed his lips to the side of her head, arms moved till she held his shoulders from behind. A long, filling breath allowed her to meld better to his body. She fit _perfectly._

And a light turned on. He could _help_ her. His _arms_ helped her. He held her, and it calmed her out of panic.

He had something to do, now. _Jim had purpose again._

He stared. He couldn’t stop. She moved beneath his fingers, swaying as he lathered shampoo through her hair. She refused to let go. Scared he would leave, he guessed. Jim didn’t mind. He felt _needed_ now. _Everything was worth it now. The rest of his life meant something._ He rinsed her hair, she apologized for barging in. He lathered conditioner, and apologized for the soft erection between them; sudden intimacy stirred his entire body. But it was okay. She needed a _different_ part of him, and he had gone so long without purpose he didn’t mind. He could take care of her, make her days better.

_Everything was okay now._

 

She sat on the edge of his bed while he dressed. Quiet as ever, withdrawn as ever, but _there_. Didn’t run off again. She even apologized for leaving him in the pool. Touching her shoulder overwhelmed her, she said. She’d thought if she took another pill, she would forget it happened. Thought it wouldn’t rack her mind anymore. So she took a sleeping pill, but when she woke up, the sensation was gone. She couldn’t remember what his hand felt like on her skin. It felt like something had been ripped away. It haunted her till she felt like she exploded inside, and she felt more alone than ever. Pills were not the answer. So she came to the source of the touch she could no longer remember.

Jim closed the closet and buttoned his shirt, joining her on the edge of his bed. He didn’t know what to say yet. He hadn’t had time to figure it out.

“Can I sleep in here now?” she didn’t look at him.

“Right now? You haven’t slept?”

“No, I mean… can I… move in with you? I mean, I don’t have things to move in, but… So I can sleep next to you at night?” The way she held herself, she looked ashamed to ask.

“I… yeah. I’m- no, it’s fine. I mean, are you sure?”

“I feel like I’m getting more lost each day,” she said. Her shoulders cringed and she held her arms between her knees. “I almost pushed the button.”

“What button?”

Her mouth moved without sound for a moment. Then, “I woke up by the airlock door.”

“Oh, _shit._ _Lana._ How come you didn’t find me first?”

“I just want it to stop hurting. _I_ want to stop hurting.”

He wished he didn’t know what that felt like. He sat closer and pulled her against him.

He remembered the day he almost opened the airlock on himself. Remembered it better than he wanted to. It was the day he made a decision that put Lana in his life.

“Yeah, of course. You can move in if you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Just… if I start acting weird, please let me know.”

“What do you mean?” She sat in his arms anyway, holding on to him again.

“I…have never lived with a woman I wasn’t in a relationship with. So… if I do anything… a partner might do, just… stop me. Please.”

“Like walk around naked?”

He smiled and held her tighter. “Unless you _like_ that sort of thing.” She buried her face in his collar and squeezed his shoulder with a jerk of her body. A grin broke out on his face. “Was that a smile?” he teased.

“No,” her denial came out with a scoff and steamed through his shirt.

“Okay,” he giggled. He held the back of her head and planted his lips. Then he leaned back with a grimace. “Like that. Sorry. I like kissing. And I haven’t done it in a… very long time. You may have to remind me.” A brief pause. “Hey, can I make a _condition?_ For you moving in with me?”

“A condition?” She pulled back and found his eyes.

He hesitated. He hoped he wasn’t pushing his luck. “I would like you to eat with me. I’m _serious._ I mean _actual eating._ Sit and eat with me at least once a day. I’ll let you choose the meal and where you want to eat.” They sat in silence for awhile. He knew this was an obstacle for her. He thought part of it stemmed back to her words when she woke up, when she was overweight. She called herself _ugly_ and _fat_ and _a mistake._ “Please?” he urged. “What’s the point of trying to make it stop hurting if you starve yourself?”

“I don’t feel like eating, Jim. _Ever._ I have a bad taste in my mouth all the time.”

“From your pills,” he recalled. “Can you stop taking them? What if you starve to death?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes darted. “What if I stop taking them and it hurts more?” She was afraid.

 _“I’m here,_ though,” he reminded her. “Doesn’t _that_ count for something?”


	9. Chapter 9

“Jim?” her voice carried through the cargo bay.

Jim looked up with a frown, unsure he wasn’t hearing things. He called back, half expecting no reply. When she sounded off again, he pushed back his chair and walked out of his storage space.

 _“Hey.”_ He watched Lana walk down the open corridor. Her eyes roamed the countless storage units all around them. “What do you got there?” he gestured to the boxes in her hands.

“Um…” It took a moment for her eyes to leave their surroundings and land on him. “Pasta,” she said. “Chicken spinach Alfredo and garlic bread.” She held a box and a wrapped fork out to him.

Jim smiled and accepted. “You brought me lunch?” He was beginning to like her surprises.

She stared at him for a moment. “Is this a bad time?” she asked.

“No, not at all. I’m just tinkering.”

“What are you making?”

“A… gift.” He answered. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but it’s okay.” Jim motioned for her to come in.

“A gift?” Her mouth parted in awe as she stepped in his unit. “You work here?”

“You could call it that.” He gestured to the seat at his work table; the only seat there. “Nothing I’ll be paid for. I’m making a little statue now, but most times when I tinker, it’s to make something I need. Or to fix those little vacuum bots. Are you going to eat with me?”

“I’m… going to try it.”

“Yeah?” He opened the box, and the aroma hit straight through to his stomach. It must be past lunch time. “Smells good.” He gestured again to the chair as he unwrapped his fork. “Sit.”

She gave the chair an apprehensive glance before sitting down.

“Are you okay?’

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay here.” Her hair fell around her shoulders as she opened her to-go box.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“No. Nothing new.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and unwrapped her fork. “No. If I’m honest, trying to get comfortable on this ship feels like giving up.”

“Yeah. It does feel that way. But there’s not a lot to try. Maybe if we had higher clearance.” He shrugged.

Jim watched her twirl her fork in her pasta and raise it up. She stared at the noodles on her fork as if it was a tangle of live fishing bait instead. And an overwhelming urge rose inside Jim.

“Dunnn dunnn dunnnnn _dun dun!”_ he sang the epic tune of an old film he watched as a kid; 2001’s Space Odessy. Lana froze and her eyes darted in recognition. “Dunn dunn dunnn-” he continued. She raised her head and frowned. Jim fought the biggest grin of his life. _“DUN DUNN!”_ he finished in falsetto.

Her face fell flat before tense brows. “Very funny.”

“Hey!” he chuckled. “This is a momentous occasion for the Avalon.”

 _“Asshole,”_ she muttered, before shoving the bite in her mouth.

Jim couldn’t help grinning. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He raised own forkful of pasta like a champagne glass when she glared at him. “Cheers.” Rich, heavy, cheesy on his tongue made him moan. “This is really good,” he chewed on one side. “Thank you.”

She nodded, chewing slow. “I hope Washington budgeted in two-hundred-twenty-eight dollar pasta.”

Jim laughed so loud food almost flew out.

“So… is this your unit? Or did… you put all this stuff in here?”

“Some of it is mine, but I brought the rest in.” He nodded through another bite.

“What else is here?”

Jim chewed while he went over the manifest in his head. “Mostly farming and trade goods. Building materials.”

She perked up. “Farming? The livestock is on board?” She took only a small bite this time.

He nodded. “Rows and rows of cows and sheep and chickens… you name it. All in hibernation.”

Her eyes moved in thought. “Do they have pets? Domestic animals?”

“Like dogs?”

She nodded. “Cats. Are there cats?”

Jim tried to read her. “You want a cat?” She nodded again. It wasn’t a horrible idea. Better than waking another human, anyway. “I could take a look.” Another idea crossed his mind. “You could ride down there with me,” he offered.

She stared so hard Jim almost felt a tether form. Not even a nod broke it. She seemed grappled in thought. “What else is there? In cargo, I mean? Just tools and parts?”

“No,” he shook his head head. “It’s a stocked warehouse. School supplies, textiles, household wares.”

“Kitchen stuff?”

“I’ll have to double-check that, but I want to say yes. I want to say I saw sinks and ovens on the list.” He stuffed his mouth. “You’re going to cook something?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, and her gaze fell to her food. She stabbed and stirred her noodles a moment. “We’ll need to leave the automated food for the other passengers in eighty-nine years.”

Jim hadn’t considered that. The ship was equipped to sustain five-thousand two-hundred twenty-eight people for four months, not fifty or so years of three meals each day for two. Quick math in his head convinced him she was right. Granted the ship was supplied for each person to have three meals plus snacks and dessert - not to mention coffee, milk, juice - each day for four months - and the crew a month longer… If Jim and Lana didn’t find a way to sustain themselves, more than a hundred thousand meals would be missing by the time the crew woke up.

  


“So,” Jim glanced over as the hover car started off. “I’m going to pretend like I haven’t read your entire profile-”

“What?” Lana searched him, uncertain or suspicious.

He met her eyes. “How old are you?” She held his gaze in a pause of suspicion. “This is what friends do, right? They get to know each other.”

“Do things like that matter anymore? We’re the only people here.”

“Yeah, but,” he shrugged, “we still have birthdays. You still like colors, and songs. Right?”

“But there aren’t colors or songs here.”

He thought for awhile. “There are at the dance-off arcade, and in the bar.” He looked at her again. “But they’re still important. Aren’t they?”

“Maybe.”

After a moment, Jim sighed and shifted in his seat. “I already know your birthday. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

“Then when is my birthday?” she challenged.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” he teased.

“I don’t even know what _today_ is.” She looked away.

Jim paused. “I don’t either, at the moment. But I’ll check when we get back.” He watched her again. He spent so much time doing this. “Bad experience with birthdays?” he guessed.

“You could say that.”

“But that’s not what’s wrong today.” He knew that much. “Because your birthday’s not for months. So what’s wrong today? What do you _need_ today, I should say.”

“I don’t know.” She looked out the virtual window. “I stopped taking my meds for panic and depression. That was two days ago. Maybe four or five. I think it’s… finally taking effect. Plus eating again after… however long. I feel …displaced, I guess. On top of everything else.”

“Do you need a hug?” he offered. Only a brief pause, then she nodded. Jim reached over and pulled her in. It took no time for her to nestle in.

Jim didn’t mind. He loved how she clung to him.

It felt good to be needed.

“You could always ask, you know.” He cradled her head at the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know how.” He felt her pout against his skin.

“Sure you do. It’s easy. _‘Jim, can you hold me?_ ’ ” he prompted.

She shook her head. “I’m a _woman._ I’m not supposed to need things. I’m sup- supposed to be able to take care of my _own_ needs. That’s how it goes for girls.”

“That’s a stupid practice.”

“But it’s how they raise us.”

“It’s like that for men, too. We’re supposed to be able to do anything. To fix anything. We’re only supposed to need a woman at home.” He rested his chin on her head and rubbed her back. “ _‘Jim,’_ ” he prompted again.

“Jim’s _your_ name, not mine.”

Jim’s eyes scrunched with an eruptive laugh. He tightened his arms and brought her closer, giggling into her hair.

A moment of silence as the car drove them through storage. Then: “Lana, will you - _hold_ me?” she asked.

Jim grinned and squeezed her again. “I’d love to, Jim.” He kissed the top of her head and rubbed the arm around him. He didn’t mean to kiss her; like a reflex of holding a woman. But she didn’t seem to mind.

It helped him, as well. Jim didn’t feel so disconnected from himself when he held her.

Approaching the livestock hibernation bay stole her breath. Lana pressed against the virtual window as the area lights turned on and revealed cow after cow after cow in hibernation.

“Jim…” she breathed. She looked over, eyes wide and breathing hard. “Can we get out?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” He reached over and pushed to stop the car. With fumbling hands, she was out and pressed against the hibernation pod of a spotted cow in almost a blink.

Jim leaned back against the car and watched her. Awe. Childlike wonder on her face as she moved from giant pod to giant pod like a five year old in a zoo. Her palms almost never left a glass. _Something she liked._

At last.

She said something Jim couldn’t quite hear. “What’s that?” he called over. He pushed away from the car and walked to her.

 _“Project Nautilus Two,”_ she read off one of the tanks. Her fingertips underlined the words and the Roman numeral. “Nautilus Jr was the name of my ship. The one I couldn’t afford to build.”

“That’s the one you sold to the government for passage?” Jim admired her. The pods almost glowed blue by reflecting the area lights. It engulfed her like a fairytale aura.

It made her look like they weren’t stranded on a derelict ship.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Tell me about that.” He walked closer.

“Kind of like an ark, the kind from the Bible.” She stared at the hibernating cow like she was trying to memorize it. “I never planned for cows, or big animals. I planned for a couple goats, for bunnies, cats. Birds. Bees and ants and fish, and chickens. And aphids; ants use them like cattle. I had a mixed orchard and a mixed crop. Multipurpose plants. Flowers and herbs that served as medicine and food. I had it all planned out. The trees I’d cut down to clear the land would become furniture. I planned a library, wood stoves, six bedrooms. A cistern, an incineration chamber. Solar panels within airtight walls. A distillery. Well pumps. The control room was below the entry.” She moved on to another pod. “Nothing in hibernation. Just a large, live, mobile ark with comfortable survival sources. I meant for it to be like living in the garden of Eden. Basic ingredients to help repopulate necessary foods of life. A way to repair the Earth after an apocalypse, or a way to survive in space if Earth was irreparable.”

“And you traded that to emigrate?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“That must have been hard. It sounds incredible.”

She tapped one of the _Project Nautilus II_ labels again. “I only traded that end of last year. Well, December before we went down in hibernation. They had the plans for years, though. I didn’t realize they’d already finished the project when they came to me.” She paused. “I had it all written down, how to access Earth’s satellites once in space. I guess whoever found it didn’t realize what they had in their hands before the government got a hold of it.” She huffed and her eyes almost smiled. “NASA got a shock that day. They didn’t think a person without a college degree could access their equipment, let alone a- … someone like me. I guess they figured re-sold college books didn’t teach anyone anything.”

Jim couldn’t stop staring. Her atmosphere now was almost foreign compared to her normal heartache. She seemed confident, and unafraid of the unknown. Right now, she was a different person.

She was beautiful.

Better still was her reaction to the cats. They found six of every breed, domestic and wild. She stood at a pod of a black cat, looking in like the pictures he’d seen of new parents at an incubation capsule. She loved black cats. She used to have some, she said. They might have been her own children. _Insight_ to the crushed soul who dragged her feet through the halls.

“Can you wake it up?” she asked.

Jim hesitated before joining her. He met her eyes before checking the outer diagnostics. Almost identical to the human hibernation pods. “Maybe.” He looked at her again. “It’s not like a human, though. It may take a while. I’ll need to read up on these types of pods. There’s also food. And I’ll probably need to wake a second one so it doesn’t go feral on this metal jungle.”

She searched him. Pleading on her face, lip fighting another pout. She feared him denying her. “Will you try? Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Hope for the first time resonated in her eyes. “Thank you.”

  


Then the bar. Arthur waited patient as ever as Lana stalled approaching the counter to stare up at the ceiling. Her eyes moved as she listened to the music pouring out of the ceiling speakers like air.

“Bob- _Bobby Darin,”_ she whispered. “I know his voice.”

“An excellent ear,” Arthur called over. Lana dropped her head, and stared again.

“Arthur, I’d like you to meet Lana. Lana, Arthur.” Jim gestured to the android when Lana looked to him in uncertainty.

“A pleasure to meet you, madam.” Arthur smiled warm as ever.

“Likewise…” She stared like she couldn’t stop. She peered over the bar like a curious child. “Are you an AI?”

“He’s an _android,_ he called himself,” Jim told her.

Lana studied Arthur like a painting. “What makes something an android is its ability to think for itself. A thinking machine designed to react to spontaneous events.”

“Spot on.” The robotic bartender gave Jim a smirk that said he approved.

 _“Humans_ are androids,” Lana said.

“I’m not sure I want to know why you said that,” Jim shook his head. “Uh, whiskey rocks, please, Arthur.”

“Of course. And what would the lady like?”Arthur smiled at her.

She blinked over and over, like she had to remind herself she was in a place of relaxation, not there to study. “Some-” she wet her mouth. “Something strong but doesn’t taste like alcohol. Maybe something with blueberries. Or coconut. Or both. Please.”

Arthur smiled for her. “I know _just_ the thing.”

Jim gestured to a bar stool, not sitting himself until she did. “Hey, Arthur, is there any way to turn up the stereo? Lana’s waited for music for _days.”_ He smiled for her as he sat.

 _“Two-hundred seventy_ days,” she said.

“Hm. Nine months is a long time to wait,” Arthur commented.

Jim huffed. “You’re tellin’ me.” He looked over when he felt Lana stare. Jim smiled again. “You know, Arthur,” he looked back and took a sip of his whiskey, “it’s a shame you don’t have legs. I still don’t have a dance partner.”

“Subtle and suggestive. What can you _do_ when you’re too good for the machine? Can’t embarrass the holograms, can I?” Lana looked up as Arthur set a blended drink before her. “They would never dance again. _Then_ where would you be?” She thanked Arthur before shooting an awkward glance to Jim. Jim tried his hardest not to smirk. Whatever reason for her social change, her humor was perfect.

“Oh, you mustn’t risk that now, should you?” Arthur joked back.

“Indeed.” She took a sip and fought a wince. “Embarrassed machines are the worst.”

“Embarrassed machines,” Jim echoed.

“Don’t say that three times in a row. It’s bad luck.”

“We definitely don’t want that.” Jim smiled when she met his eyes.

 _“I’m_ awake. You might not have a choice.” She looked down at her drink before bringing it to her mouth.

“I don’t believe that,” Arthur smiled with the signature sparkle in his eyes. “Ladies such as yourself can’t _possibly_ bring bad luck.”

“Well… I’m sitting _here,_ aren’t I?” Underneath her facade remained her melancholy. She stirred her icy drink with the little umbrella. “This is delicious, thank you.”

Jim reconciled with guilt. Lana had a way of reminding him he made a mistake that cost her her life. “Excuse me a minute,” he said. He slid off his bar stool and slipped away to the mens room.

He stared at his reflection after he dried his face. Maybe he was pushing it. A lot had happened the past few days. For her with her meds, more. No physical contact and hardly another voice around, then intense moments of re-discovering touch. It had consumed them both. Even Jim was aware it induced emotional attachment considered too sudden in any other situation. Maybe too sudden for their situation, as well.

He didn’t like she kept reminding him he made a mistake he could not retract. But he understood her frustration. He still blamed the Homestead company for his pod failure. Facts were facts, even when they were all each other had to alleviate their needs.

“Perhaps you need new perspective.” Arthur stood with his hands on the bar in his usual stance of advice when Jim returned.

“Perspective is good,” Jim joined the conversation, sliding back onto his stool.

Lana glanced at him, then Arthur. “What do you mean? Even if I look through security cams, it’s still only _my_ perspective behind them. That doesn’t give me a lot of options.”

Arthur cocked his head and squinted.

“Oh, now he’s about to lay bartender wisdom on you.” Jim sipped his whiskey. “The first time he did this to me, I broke into the Vienna suite and went wild.”

“Then you walked around with no pants for seven weeks,” Arthur smiled. Jim grinned and raised his glass in salute, and Arthur’s grin stretched.

“I’ve already done that,” Lana said. Jim grinned at her now.

“Yeah, that was a new experience for me,” he teased.

“My advice, if I am allowed?” Arthur offered. Lana raised her eyes to him. “Perhaps you just need to get out. Find something to occupy your time. There are plenty attractions to suit your desires.”

“And if my desires are still in hibernation?” She eyed the robot. She meant her daughter.

“Then awaken them,” Arthur urged. He meant potential that already lay inside her. “Stimulate your senses. And be _lucky_ you _can._ Not all of us _have_ senses.”

“What stimulates most people over-stimulates me.” She shook her head.

“He’s saying do the dance-off with me,” Jim smirked.

“Now, Jim, you’re putting words in my mouth. We don’t want to embarrass the holograms,” Arthur played. Lana’s eyes moved to each of them over her glass. “What I’m saying is find something you enjoy that stimulates you. What _do_ you enjoy?” Arthur asked her.

Her eyes drifted. “Nothing, lately. Between my-- _situation_ and my meds, nothing.”

“You enjoyed the animals,” Jim reminded her of their trip after lunch.

“Normally a fine idea, except livestock on the concourse would be a terrible idea.” Arthur shook his head.

“Right. Cows and metal.” Jim nodded. “A bunch of bullshit.”

A hard snort drew attention to Lana. She ducked her head, doing her best to suppress a smile. Jim couldn't help his own.

“No, I’m talking about interaction. For example: Jim.” Arthur gestured, looking at Lana. “Jim spends his days tinkering. A thing he enjoys, if I recall?” He looked to Jim for confirmation.

Jim nodded. “Definitely.”

“So what is there for _Lana_ to enjoy?” Arthur asked.

  



	10. Chapter 10

“Jim?”

“I thought that was your name?” he said into his pillow.

“Was that too loud? Sorry, I was talking to myself.”

Jim giggled, so tired the laugh shook all of him. He peeked at her with one eye, though all he saw in the dark was a faint blue outline from the wall hologram. A warm hand landed on his face and he made a noise. “What are you aiming for?” His cheek squished under her palm.

“Sorry. I was…”

“Fondling my beard?” he mumbled, closing his eyes again.

“That was an unintended bonus.”

He smiled. “Good reason to keep it.”

After a moment, her hand slid off his face and down his shoulder, down until she found his hand. Her fingers locked between his.

Jim peeked at her again. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was… just trying to feel your breath.” She let out a hard sigh. “Explaining this shit sounds so corny.”

“I’m not quite asleep yet.” He watched her faint outline for a second before closing his eyes once more. He squeezed her hand. “Is it weird I like it?”

“Maybe not as weird as me ambushing you in the shower first thing in the morning.”

He giggled again. One more peek as she adjusted her hand around his, then Jim rolled over, held an arm out across the pillows, and lifted the blanket. “Come here.” After a pause, the bed depressed. She wiggled over until her head fit at his shoulder, then Jim closed his arm around her and pulled the covers up. “Better?”

“Yeah.” She nestled in as close as she could.

Jim held the hand over his heart and craned his neck to kiss her forehead. “Are you comfortable?” Rubbing her arm made her shiver closer into him.

“Yeah.” Hot breath came at his collar in even beats. “Confused, but otherwise, yeah.”

“Confused?” he murmured. He didn’t need the lights on to appreciate the moment. A warm, living body, a  _ soft  _ body. A woman who  _ needed  _ him snuggled as close as could be. And she wanted to stay there all night. Jim caressed the back of the hand pressing to his heart.

“I don’t like people touching me. But it’s so empty here it… it feels like the… silence is trying to tear me apart. From every direction.” Her fingers flexed through his chest hair, then pressed harder over his heart. Jim rubbed her arms again. “Thank you for letting me sleep in here.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m falling asleep with a gorgeous woman in my arms. I’m gonna be stiff as a board when I wake up.”

A noise exploded in her mouth and she buried her face hard. There was no mistaking the stretch between her cheeks.

A laugh bubbled up out of Jim. “That was definitely a smile.” He squeezed her arms. “I can’t wait to see your face in the morning.”

 

 

 

“Whatcha reading?” Jim slid into the seat across from her.

“Your profile.” Without looking up, she reached for a cup of coffee.

“My profile?” he echoed.

“Yeah. I realized, when I woke up, I don’t know a thing about you.” She almost downed her coffee, only glancing up to refill from a carafe. “I woke up with a headache, by the way. Thank you.”

Jim grinned at her. “You’re hungover?”

“I haven’t drank in almost a decade. Not to mention I only ate, like, five bites yesterday.”

Jim chuckled, unable to stop grinning. “But you’re eating today, right?”

“Not yet.” Her eyes left the holopad again to fill the rest of her mug with cream and sweetener.

“Your breakfast, mademoiselle.” A robot waiter from the French restaurant rolled in with a covered platter. Jim watched the robot bend at the waist joint and slide the platter on to the table. “Bon appetít.” Then as if it wasn’t in the wrong restaurant, it rolled away.

Lana gestured to the platter with her head. “Dig in.”

“You got the French waiters to bring food down to the bar?” he asked, impressed.

“There’s no radio up there. At least, I don’t know how to turn it on. Otherwise that’s where I’d be. I’m serious, eat up. The President in a hundred years will be  _ pissed  _ if this goes to waste.”

Jim watched her for a moment before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “You wasted precious U.S. taxpayer dollars on French take out you won’t even eat?”

“Yep.” She took a long drink. “I’ve had two cups already. I’m going to bounce off the walls in a minute, sorry.”

Jim laughed as quiet as he could. A glance to the bar revealed a smile. “Morning, Arthur,” he called over.

“Good morning, Jim. Excellent way to start the day.” Arthur polished glasses like he always did. For a robot, he seemed to understand when people had a good thing going.

“Okay, so…” Jim peeked at Lana while lifting the platter lid. The smell of crepes and bacon and fresh strawberries hit his nose. “You only now realized you know nothing of the man you cuddled with all night.”

“Something like that. But also not.”

“That makes perfect sense,” he teased. “So is it just the coffee, or are you actually having a good morning?”

“Just the coffee so far.”

“You know, I’m right here. You don’t need to look through my profile.”

“All right, then.” She put down the holopad and looked at him. “If you were a Ninja Turtle, who would you be?”

Jim fought a smile. “I want to say Michelangelo. The cool, fun one. But I think I’m more like Donatello.”

She looked at him for a moment, then picked the holopad back up. “Okay. Thank you.”

“That was it?” He piled crepes on a plate already on the table and began buttering.

“For now.”

“Are you sure it’s just the coffee?” he asked after a few bites. She’d never been so perky, nor looked so busy.

“Yeah. My veins feel like trout migration. I think my heart is growing wings. Is that normal?” she met his eyes with a straight face.

He smiled and shook his head, mouth full of food. “Not that I know of.”

She paused. “That’s okay. I know where the auto-doc is.” Her eyes then went back to reading.

Jim tried not to stare while he ate. It was different than yesterday. She wasn’t only on the other end of his bed. They fell asleep hugging each other last night. It was familiarity when it felt taboo to feel for each other, repose that bloomed in spite. He ruined her life, and her daughter’s. They  _ shouldn’t  _ wake up together. But they did.

She read in silence for a while. Every now and then, her eyes flinched. She reached for her coffee without looking. Down half a glass of water at a time. Otherwise so saturated in what she read.

Then she froze. Eyes moved but she didn’t breathe. She looked at him for a minute, then frowned in thought at the holopad again. Jim could almost see cogs turning in her head.

"Anything interesting in there?” he asked. “I haven’t read my own profile yet.”

Her eyes flicked over. “What do you consider interesting?”

“That’s  _ super  _ encouraging.” He made a show of trying not to smile.

“No, I mean like… I consider _ snails eating _ interesting, or cleaning a fish, or breaking a pus-filled wound.” He wrinkled his nose at her, and she shrugged. “Interests are relative.”

“No.” He shook his head, smiling in disgust. “My profile must seem pretty boring to you. Sorry.”

She set down the holopad the same time he held out a forkful of food. Lana did a double-take at the fork, then stared at him.

“Bite?” he said. She kept staring, blinked a few times.  _ “Ahhh,” _ he prompted, trying not to smile.

As if mimicking like a reflex yawn, her lips parted. Jim brought the fork just past her teeth, and her mouth closed. Her lips pulled with the fork, then pursed back. She never left his gaze. Jim thought he smiled too wide, but he couldn’t stop it.

He took a deep breath and a bite for himself. “Did you want to say something?”

Her brows furrowed as she chewed. Jim tried to hide a smirk to the side of his face. He not only took her by surprise, but made her train of thought derail. “Your work space,” she swallowed. “Was that unit empty when you found it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I rearranged a bunch of stuff.”

“And you said there are appliances in there? In other bins?”

“Yep.” He nodded. He watched her over his coffee mug.

“Can you help me set up a kitchen?”

“A kitchen?”

“Yeah.” She paused, and her eyes darted, then found his again. “They sent us with extension cords, right?”

His smile tipped to one side. “That would be a sick joke if they didn’t.” Jim chuckled at her expression. “Yes, they did. Rolls and rolls of extension cords, varied gauges.”

“Will you help me set up a kitchen then? Counters, ovens, cupboards?” she asked.

He studied her for a moment. “Sure. What are you going to make?”

“I don’t know yet.” Her eyes moved in thought. “But we’ll have to eventually. Might as well get started so I know how to cook with what we have when we need to.”

He agreed with a nod. “You want this set up before I try to wake the cat?”

“Yeah. Please.”

He nodded again. “We’ll start after breakfast, if you want. It’ll be a project.”

“A project might be good.” She turned her coffee cup before emptying it. “Please drink the rest of the coffee before I stop my heart.”

Jim grinned and refilled his cup. “Yes, Ma’am.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Creating a kitchen was more fun than it sounded. With her there, rearranging heavy equipment wasn’t the pain it sounded he imagined. It became a live game of Tetris, moving and fitting into tight spaces to maximize cooking room in a storage unit not meant for mundane activities. Lana even had a knack for repair. While Jim rode back and forth with large appliances, she drew out plans for counters and cut wood. While he cut marble to her dimensions, she strung cords and set the sink. A storage unit couldn’t support running water, but she found a way around it. Two tubs on wheels sat under the counter, one with clean water for pumping into the sink, the other for draining. A metal pipe connected to a burner that could be turned on and off with a foot pad to heat water moving into the sink. They would need to roll each tub away and empty it once a week, but it would work. She made it work.

Jim helped her set the marble counters. He smoothed them out while she made drawers. He taught her to make a fan to vent oven heat. Together they made electrical cords and hanging lamps. And they laughed. She was still hard to smile, and her laughs came out as scoffs or snorts. But it was fun. He learned she laughed through her eyes rather than aloud. Elbows bumped, toes were stepped on. They tangled themselves around tools and cords and tripped over each other. Jim’s laughter echoed, while hers was a visual that _showed_ the fun. Each morning started with coffee and breakfast somewhere; sometimes take-out in the apartment. Each night ended in drinks and recounting the day to Arthur and trying to make Lana grin. After the bar, she took time to herself while Jim showered and unwound, then he welcomed her back and they drifted off together. They couldn’t seem to start the day fast enough.

He kept his space, never went beyond her advances; limited to needing arms at night. But it was natural, comfortable. Like they were meant to live together. It made the solitude of misfortune out in space not just bearable, but worth it. They could not have predicted a single moment, nor how it brought them together. They had no choice on company, but here they were anyway, choosing comfort when they could fight their fate.

When she shocked herself attaching wires, Jim took her finger to examine the electrical burn. Not bad enough to require a trip to the infirmary. He winced anyway. _“Wow,_ this is… _really bad,”_ he teased.

“Oh, good lord.” She rolled her eyes, and Jim fought a grin.

“Don’t worry, I have _just_ the thing.” Before she could ask, Jim brought her finger to his lips for a playful, healing kiss. “See? All better.”

She did nothing for moments but stare.

 

From then, Jim set out to bring a cat from hibernation. It began with research: learning where the cats were sent upon waking, where cat food was kept, and what cats ate if dry pet food ran out. They’d have to figure out a litter box system and scratch posts. Similar to human hibernation pods, but different processes of different strengths went off. While Lana showered and got ready each day, he ordered coffee and breakfast to the room and read up. Some days he’d exit the shower to find Lana had poured over his notes and made suggestions, or drew tiny pictures in the page margins. Some of her drawings were crude, suggestive images that pursed her lips in attempt to hold face when he questioned her.

Jim learned he’d have to wake two or three cats. Reproduction and maturity rate factors, and a racial companion to keep the cat from going feral in such a unnatural place. Or from degenerating from not having a mate.

… Like what happened to Jim.

He grabbed the cat manifest, enlarging pictures as he walked up stairs. “Hey, Lana?” Jim looked over, and did a double-take. She sat on the bed, still in a towel - not unusual. What caught his attention was hands rubbing lotion on bare legs. Smooth, hairless, reflecting the room lights as her fingers moved. “You shaved.” He stood at the top of the steps a moment. She paused to look up, only to resume in apprehension. Jim kicked himself inside. He hadn’t meant to make her feel uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and walked over. “Special occasion? Or just trying it out?”

“Just trying it.” She didn’t look at him.

“Do you like it?” he asked. He couldn’t help curiosity. He hadn’t seen her make such a change before. He hadn’t seen her take an interest in her sex appeal.

Her brow flinched. “I… miss how cloth feels on them.”

He nodded slow, unsure how he could react without looking too interested.

He wanted to ask if he could touch her. He hadn’t touched a woman like that in years, now. Until late when she warmed up to him, he didn’t even have human company. Snuggling at night wasn’t the same as being romantic. _He missed it._ He missed the intimate graze across sensitive skin to and from a lover.

But trying that now - even _asking_ to touch - might overstep her bounds in ways that would mean isolation and loneliness again. More than he might ever desire romance, he _needed_ companionship. “I mean, how do you _feel?”_ he clarified. “Do you feel… attractive?” He shrugged, hoping he came off as supportive, not lecherous.

She paused, still not looking at him. “Kind of. Maybe not _sexy,_ but _sexier._ If that makes sense.”

“No, totally. I feel the same when I shave my beard. Well, I feel _cleaner,_ anyway.” He paused in the awkward moment to clear his throat. “Uh, here.” He held up the holopad and found her eyes, forcing the topic away from her legs. “So the cats don’t go crazy and try to wake up any other cats in utter loneliness-” he joked on his own situation “- I’m going to wake up two or three. So pick a couple more.”

“The cats on this ship can deactivate hibernation pods?” she joked.

He smiled and shrugged his eyebrows. “Just our luck, right? Maybe it has top clearance.”

“I’m about to be jealous.”

Jim could only grin. This life wasn’t turning out so bad at all.

 


	12. Chapter 12

It seemed easier for her. While Jim rode his way around live animal hibernation and gathered what he needed to sustain cats, Lana filled her new kitchen. Some of his trips through cargo, he spied her going through dry goods. So busy she didn’t notice him slow down and drive by. Pulled down box after box in multiple storage units and loaded what she needed on a palate car. She was on a mission. She found _purpose._ _Here,_ on this ship.

_ With him. _

It gave  _ Jim  _ hope. Strengthened his resolve to be someone she could come back to each night. His mission to make her smile served a greater purpose. She seemed to be seeking peace with her fate. Making her days end well meant she’d always feel  _ she  _ had a purpose. At the least, he could make her feel her life wasn’t wasted. He could help her never hurt again.

Like she was helping him.

He got it all ready beforehand. While the cats revived in their waking chambers, Jim went back to cargo and cut carpet and planks of wood. Between scratching posts and little beds, he checked on the cats. The orange tabby took longer to warm up to him. The white tom with black paws behaved like it remembered humans but couldn’t place where. The black female she wanted came right up without hesitation, though. Mewed, wanted to be held, petted, followed every footstep when he checked in thrice each day; almost  _ too  _ needy for him. It felt like the perfect thing for Lana. A baby to attend to all day, something to take her mind off fate. He made sure all three were litter trained and passed health scans before taking them from recovery chambers.

Jim made it a surprise. He woke early, left a note for Lana to join him in the concourse for breakfast, then he set up. When the clock read the time the she normally finished dressing, Jim hid the cat carrier behind the fountain and waited for his shipmate up at the cafeteria rail. His thumb hovered over the remote lock’s control button. He couldn’t wait to push it.

He was so anxious to see her reaction time dragged by. The cats didn’t handle their incarceration well, either. Meowing turned to mewls of desperation as seconds passed and little paws tried to jerk the bars open. The racket echoed and slowed time almost worse than his eager excitement. What was only four minutes felt like forty-five. Then the elevator opened and Lana stepped out. And she froze. From his inconspicuous viewpoint, Jim saw her eyes widen. She stood listening, head turning as her eyes tried to locate the sound. She called his name, and the cats all but exploded in their tiny feline pleas.

Jim smiled. The button sank under his thumb, and with a faint clank, the cats burst out.

And Lana gasped so loud it echoed in the concourse. She stood gaping, breath blowing her chest like a balloon as the cats scattered away from the fountain. The black cat she wanted beelined for her like it didn’t care what human it found; as long as it  _ had  _ a human. The others saw the grand alien concourse and followed the black cat instead. And Jim’s only person began crying.

Jim watched as she bent to pick up the black cat. In an instant, her entire world changed. A grin almost too wide broke out on her face.  _ The first time she’d ever smiled.  _ Her eyes became slivers of felicity. She fought gasps and tears as the cat pushed up on her collar and mewed her face. She stared in wonder, lost her fingers in its long fur. Braced it at her chest and buried her face. When she knelt to reach the other cats, the grin still hadn’t left her face. Disbelief and wonder and joy,  _ relief  _ she’d thought lost forever. The cats rubbed against her, stood on her lap and nuzzled her jaw, chased her hands for more affection. A thing she’d longed for had arrived at last.

If waiting for her to show dragged on, this moment crept. Jim never found it like that himself. He never experienced a moment that turned his life around for the better to the point of tears. It didn’t feel the same as finding purpose again, or even finding hope again. _ Jim had never seen her smile.  _ He’d never seen  _ anyone  _ so happy they cried. But here she was. For the first time, something broke through and she did not fight it. Something  _ he  _ did made her so happy she cried.

Jim set the cage remote on a table and headed downstairs. “Good morning,” he announced himself. Lana looked up and lost her smile, though it returned in no time with her chosen cat demanding attention right at her face. When Jim squatted before her and her smile stayed, his chest swelled. Her happiness didn’t wane, and she didn’t try to hide it. Jim understood he was seeing her at a vulnerable high. Each new huff and stretched her cheeks more. Her eyes were so glossed he was surprised she saw him. She was happy for once, and  _ he did it. _ Breathless giggles and a demanding furry face interrupted their gaze, and she giggled again when she returned to his eyes.  _ He’d  _ never made anyone so happy before. It almost didn’t seem real.

“Thank you,” her voice broke, hands busy massaging the small ebony head. She beamed like her own sun, like he never knew possible for her.  _ He  _ made her radiate.

_ He  _ did. All her happiness came out at once, and  _ it was for him. _

Jim had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

“You’re welcome,” he told her. He glanced down and reached reached to pet the tom cat who came to say hello, but a sudden warm face pressed against him. Soft, cool lips pushed into his, and every fiber in Jim exploded with affection. Gratitude seeped in every kiss. She held his head there, but she never needed to. Jim sank like an anchor with a sigh that resonated through his whole body. He felt her tears on his face, her cat tried to wedge its way in without end, but it didn’t change the feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed. He couldn’t remember someone kissing him to say  _ thank you. _ He’d forgotten what a kiss  _ felt  _ like. She warmed his entire body and brought the sun in.  _ With a simple kiss. _

For the moment,  _ Jim felt loved again. _

“God, I’m so sorry,” she stammered through one last kiss. Her hand slid from the back of his head, down his neck. Jim stopped her at his chest and squeezed. “I’m just-” she searched his eyes, and a grin returned with another glassy flood. “Jim, thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like them. This is the hardest I’ve worked to make anyone smile,” he teased. Another broken laugh stretched her grin again. She bit her lip in the cutest apologetic wince before nuzzling her demanding pet. Jim couldn’t stop staring. He’d never felt so important to someone’s happiness before, in someone’s  _ life. _ Her reaction made him want to do  _ more  _ for her, find  _ more  _ reasons to make her smile. He wanted her sunlight to wash over him every day. “Yeah, well, for the record, they’re sleeping on  _ your  _ side of the bed.” Another laugh scrunched her eyes. Jim didn’t realize he was smiling until her eyes landed on his mouth. It didn’t change her expression.

“All right, come on, I’m starving.” Jim stood and helped her to her feet. “Waiting for you to get out of the elevator as the  _ longest  _ five minutes of my _ life.” _

 


	13. Chapter 13

A new ambiance fell over the ship, _better_ than before. As she wanted, the cat became hers. She named it Ares, though it was far from its namesake. Jim named the tom Seymour, and together they decided on Pumpkin for the tabby. Wherever Lana went, Ares followed; she was more than happy to meet the cat’s demands. And because Ares followed Lana, Seymour and Pumpkin followed as well. They trailed her to her new kitchen and played with little rolling mice Jim made. They followed Lana to and from Jim’s work room so often they chased each other along that path any given time of day. Once, Pumpkin explored and climbed so high she couldn’t get down, and the other two sat below mewing up to their stuck friend. Jim spent an hour searching storage units for a ladder to rescue her. It wasn’t long before he made collars with little bells so they’d always know where the cats were, though that made it hard to sleep. He fell into a quick habit of taking off collars each night before bed, and putting them back on again while he waited his turn in the shower. Not to mention stealth jumps onto the table to sneak milk or meat when Jim and Lana were busy talking.

When they weren’t stealing food or tackling toes in mid night, the cats chased the trigon vacuum bots. Lana called them _Pigeons,_ and the cats scattered each time they came out to clean, only to chase them back again. But the _Pigeons_ were so advanced they memorized feline tactics and feigned a backtrack each time the cats stalked or prepared to pounce.

It was almost like having children. Lana was the pampering mom, and Jim was the dad that reinforced rules. He didn’t have his own children, but he guessed it would be like this.

They fell into these roles as if it had always been this way. Like family.

It was one more reason to wake up each day.

Pumpkin, most surprising of all, took to Arthur. The robotic bartender never interacted with animals before, but Pumpkin liked him almost from the start. When Seymour and Ares ran the concourse playing, Pumpkin could be found on Arthur’s bar. At first Arthur tried _encouraging_ her to leave; polite suggestions and gestures toward the door while warning Jim or Lana would return soon _“and then what?”_ Jim lost count how many times he and Lana removed the tabby and set her in the concourse. But Pumpkin always returned. Laying on the right curve of the bar as if she owned it, Pumpkin helped Arthur monitor his only two guests. After a couple weeks, the android and the passengers agreed to let Pumpkin stay.

They didn’t have much choice.

When he wasn’t redirecting cats, Jim began other projects. He drew plans for a permanent feeding station for the cats; something they couldn’t ignore when cats generations from now would survive their death.

He finished the statue: a dragon made from white steel with individual scales. He left it on the nightstand on Lana’s side of the bed after she fell asleep. In the morning, she rolled over still half asleep, and dropped it on her face while admiring it. Jim asked if she was okay, only for her to wince through a laugh, “It tried to _eat_ my _face!”_ Jim laughed when she warned him dragons were dangerous.

He also thought about her dream. _Nautilus Junior;_ the dream she traded the government for passage to Homestead Two. Every bit of her project and more was already on board. With the right measurements, Jim could plant trees, flowers. It would take time, but he could plant her a _garden._ Her dream didn’t have to be a _lost_ dream anymore. He could build her something they could grow _together_ each day.

Jim could build her a _life._

He felt he needed to. He would enjoy it with her, but he felt _responsible_ for bettering her life. He took her other life away. He took her _daughter_ away from her.

He owed her _something._ He hoped he could make her something worthy.

Down the way, Lana was busy with her own projects. Aromas Jim hadn’t smelled in years filled the cargo bay. At first, it was trial and error; conditions for cooking on Earth didn’t quite cut it in space. Jim spent days running into her kitchen only to find out she wasn’t on fire. She experimented with mixtures and baking times until she was satisfied, and Jim helped her test taste and texture. Failures went out the airlock. She kept a recipe book of the successes, and after a while, delicious smells filled the air, then plates. She made cupcakes and frosting. She made a loaf of bread and turned it into garlic bread to compliment supper. Jim took a break from tinkering and joined her one day, and she taught him to make a pie. He’d spread the crust too thin and didn’t thicken the filling enough, and it came out a sticky, gooey mess. But she ate it with him. It dripped through their fingers and down their chins, but she ate it with him like it was the best pie she’d ever had.

 _And she smiled._ She stopped fighting it, and it only drew Jim closer. Every smile was infectious. He found himself going extra miles to bring humor or make her day. Every smile, every giggle, every sparkle in her eyes was worth it. _It was all worth it._ She had a _good time_ with him.

It was all that mattered.

When she didn’t feel like cooking, she painted. He helped her transform another unit, and a studio was born. They dug out art supplies, and Jim saw other hidden worlds emerge, the magic of her imagination. While he set a canvas the size of a wall, she zoned out in a rainbow of splatter. Sometimes she used charcoal, sometimes paint. She drew a face that brought a sad smile to her face; her daughter, though she felt she didn’t do her justice. She painted the cats, and took a canvas to the bar one week to paint Arthur and Pumpkin. When Jim finished building the wall canvas, she began a scene she’d hoped to see on Homestead Two. Sketches of trees, mountains, a lake amid green grasses, _a scene of perfect serenity_ came to life piece at a time with paints and brushes, sometimes her hand.

Jim tried his hand at art and learned he had more control with his fingers. Compared to Lana’s art, his might have been done by a child. But like the pie, she pretended to like it. She even took another blank canvas and painted with her fingers with him. Simple flowers and trees; she even made a fingerpainted waterfall look good.

When she took his palm, lathered it in violet and pressed atop a simple green stalk, then did the same with her own hand in pink, Jim understood. He felt his art wasn’t that good, so she made simple art on purpose. Sister pieces in Jim’s childlike-style that made the whole set look intentional. _Meant-to-be._

Jim didn’t know how to react. She took his self-doubt and turned it into talent. She gave value to his lack of skill. Such a trivial thing, and it might not have meant the same to him on Earth or Homestead Two, but it rooted here. Her intent to make him proud of his work drilled further into him when he saw their finger-paintings up in the concourse the next day. Spaced along the walls like treasured art bought from a gallery. She said nothing about their simple, silly art on the walls when he joined her up in the cafeteria. He already had a hard time not staring, but this made the tether stick. She’d done a tiny, incredible thing to make _him_ feel worthy. He could never price her actions.

 _And she painted Jim._ He walked in one day with iced coffee and found himself face-to-face with his reflection. At first in pencil, but like the wall mural, it - _he_ \- took life with paint. She never said why she painted him, and he never asked. But _he was on her mind._ He was on her mind _enough_ to turn him into art.

He’d never been someone’s muse before.

It began to feel like _he_ was _her_ purpose. They weren’t just stranded shipmates. They were _living for each other,_ now.

… They didn’t talk about her kiss. She didn’t kiss him again, didn’t try. She remained a friend, but nothing more. Jim thought about the kiss every day. He watched her smile and remembered how soft she was at his mouth. He wanted her to kiss him again. _Wanted it to lead to sex._ But it was back to passionless companionship and sexual jokes at awkward moments to break the silence of the ship.

He figured she was embarrassed. Knew she was insecure and thought herself out of his league. That’s not how Jim saw her, or felt when she clung to him at night. But he knew it was how she saw herself. He gauged she thought he _couldn’t_ find her attractive.

It was just the opposite. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. The more she did for him, the stronger he felt, not to mention every morning and night. At night she slept in his arms. They ate together, sometimes they showered together. He let her make all the calls, but it grew not enough for him. He missed her kiss. It had only been a moment, but he’d felt _wanted; better_ than needed. _He missed it_.

Jim tried to show his interest. He left hints: little notes with little hearts. He paid his best attention and supported her ideas, encouraged her. He stood closer, walked closer, brushed her hand when they walked. Pressed right against her when they worked on projects together. Lingered when their hands touched passing things. Jim tucked her hair behind her ear and made sure to compliment her clothes. When she tried perfume or changed her shampoo, he let her know he noticed. _He picked her a rose;_ went all the way to the vegetation pods and cut it himself.

But she didn’t seem to get it. Either she didn’t know what he meant, or she told herself she read too far into his gestures. _Or_ she convinced herself he couldn’t want her _because_ he’d meant to wake someone else. Jim wasn’t sure what else he could try to get the idea in her head. He felt it would come down to outright saying how he felt.

 

 

_He couldn’t stop staring._

She was giggling again and couldn’t seem to stop. The cats played with the _Pigeons_ like an entire litter of kittens. Pouncing and chasing, then jumping up out of reach like a Slinky when the Pigeon bots turned right around. Every jump made her laugh, every wiggle as the cats prepared to pounce made her _quake_ in giggles. Laughter squinted her eyes and made her whole face shine.

Head resting on his fist, Jim sat there unmoving. He couldn’t stop staring even to eat. _She was incredible._ He loved her joy. Every second of her smile was a vacation in paradise. _He wasn’t stranded_ when she was happy.

She caught his gaze in a double-glance, then stared back. Her smile faded with a shy drop of her head, and she stabbed her food. Jim smiled; she was adorable when she felt shy. She sipped her coffee and tried hard not to look up again. But the temptation seemed too much. Lashes waved open as she met his stare again.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

Jim _could not_ tear his eyes away for the life of him. “Like what?” he prompted.

She hesitated, scouring his entire face. “Like I’m the… _perfect S’more.”_

Jim grinned with a small laugh. “Close,” he teased. He paused in search for a better way to tell her. But he couldn’t think of anything better than the simplest answer. “You’re beautiful, Lana. I _love_ looking at you.”

Her only response was to stare like it was unfair of him to say such things.

 

 

 

Then he learned where she went every night. Jim had never questioned her time alone, he figured it was something she needed; he liked his own personal time each day. But he sat down one day at the steward’s desk to review footage and try to pinpoint why so many Pigeon bots were malfunctioning, and he spied her instead. He didn’t mean to, but he saw her. She sat at the same hibernation pod every night. She brought a book and read, or she spoke. She put her hands on the pod and watched the still body. She _cried_ on it; threw herself over and sobbed. Tried to hug it. He respected her privacy and didn’t listen in on audio, but Jim knew whose pod it was. Lana spent every night with her daughter.

No wonder she came back wanting to be held.

He wanted to do something for her. Something _else,_ something _grand._ Something that would make a difference for _her_ . She made _his_ life _countless_ times better. Though he held her each night, it always felt _she_ did the service. Without her, Jim couldn’t hold _anyone._ He _had_ no one. She was his motive for waking, for not wasting away. _To not tempt the airlock again._ She made his imminent death easier to accept. He wanted to return the favor.

But with her daughter always the last thing on her mind each day, Jim felt anything he did would be second-rate. Forever. The one thing she wanted more than anything was to have her daughter back.

… That was it. Jim wouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- wake her daughter. But he could give her something that reminded her of the girl.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Lana didn’t go in her apartment. Jim recalled she couldn’t because it was decorated for her daughter and it hurt to step inside. Her avoidance made it the perfect place to begin.

Jim almost laughed when he stepped inside.  _ My Little Pony _ everywhere. Jim remembered his older sister watching the show  _ long  _ ago. He didn’t know a thing about it other than it was a show with colorful ponies and a bunch of songs; a cartoon that survived each new generation no matter the trend. The more he explored the apartment, the more he thought it was the perfect thing.

He also better understood why the waking alone hit Lana so hard. The  _ entire apartment _ was decorated for the  _ girl. _ Not a trace of an adult anywhere, even in the room that didn’t have pony bedding. Colors to match pony figurines decorated everywhere there wasn’t a framed pony poster. Towels with ponies, pony lamps, pony notepads. She’d had the entire place decorated to make her  _ daughter  _ happy. Not herself.

Lana had separation anxiety. Maybe worse than the girl had.

 

 

Jim looked up when Arthur repeated his name.

“What have you got there?” Arthur glanced to the holopad. “You haven’t been so engrossed since you read everything She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wrote.”

_ Aurora Lane. _ Jim huffed. He hadn’t thought of her… how long now? Everything was different with Lana awake. Jim had concluded he’d only ever wanted the  _ idea  _ of Aurora. Lana here and now fulfilled beyond what he ever expected Aurora to, even without romance. Even if he was pining for it. “It’s not superstitious to say her name.”

“Of course not. But  _ another  _ certain lady might disagree.”

Jim paused to hold the android’s gaze. “I think you’re oversimplifying our situation, Arthur.”

“It  _ is  _ possible I read her wrong." Arthur nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. Jim watched, curious. Sometimes he wondered how a robot could act so human.  _ "So,” _ Arthur grabbed another glass to polish. “What  _ are  _ you reading?”

Jim sighed and finished his whiskey. “Her daughter’s profile.”

“Ah. Eve.” Arthur nodded. “She sounds delightful. I look forward to meeting her.”

Jim smiled. “Arthur, Eve can’t come in here. She isn’t old enough to drink, even when she wakes up.” He paused again as it hit him. “Lana talks to you about her daughter?”

Arthur refilled Jim’s glass. “She has on occasion. It’s an important topic to her.”

“Anything about what her daughter likes? Besides  _ My Little Pony?” _

“Nothing of the sort, unfortunately. Why are you so interested in a sleeping child, Jim?”

Jim stared at the screen without reading for a moment, then met Arthur’s realistic eyes. “I’m just trying to make things…  _ happier  _ for Lana. But you  _ can’t tell _ her. It’s a  _ surprise, _ all right?”

Arthur cocked his head with a firm face. “Jim, I’m not  _ just  _ a bartender. I’m a  _ gentleman.” _

Jim chuckled. “Appreciate it, Mister Gentleman.”

 

 

 

She was in her kitchen today. Jim tested out his modified vacuum bot, drove it in and out of his workshop, around cargo. He made it chase the cats, and laughed when they chased it back.

Then he sat. Jim stare at the little card in his hands, hesitant. He’d planned for supper and wine, he wanted to show her the space walk. He spent a week learning a DJ program to replace one of the Dance-Off songs with compilation he hoped she’d love.

But she already didn’t believe when he said she was beautiful. She didn’t believe his interest. What if he gave her this and she rejected him again? How many times could she reject his attraction before it made sharing an apartment uncomfortable?

Jim closed his eyes with a deep sigh and held his breath.  _ What else could he do, though?  _ Before he could let his cold feet decide against it, he folded the card and extended the bot’s claw. Jim leaned back to prevent himself from stopping it in all. He gave it a pen, and from his remote, shut in the claw.

She liked robots. Maybe it would impress her enough to consider.

With another deep breath, he sent it away. Watching through the camera he’d installed as a head, Jim drove from afar. He turned the camera to spy the cats darting along, slowed to drive over extension cords, and followed them in the darkened cargo bay to Lana’s kitchen.

She saw it almost right away. Gave a double-take and held her gaze with a curious furrow as her hands busied at the island counter. Jim kept lenses on her the whole time, and as he drove it around the island and stopped before her, she smiled.

“You’re  _ Jim’s  _ new pet. Aren’t you?” She wiped her hands and knelt.

“Something like that,” Jim muttered, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. He made the camera head nod, and Lana smiled.

She studied it for a moment, cocking her head, trying to get a better look when she couldn’t touch with powdered hands. Jim smiled to himself as he followed every move of her head with the camera. “How did he find one that--?” she cut herself off with a smirk when she realized he was playing with her. “Huh.” She narrowed. “Well, it’s a  _ shame  _ you came by  _ now, _ when I’m in the middle of baking. You know, if you’re  _ free  _ tonight, I’d  _ love  _ to take you  _ apart, _ figure out how he put-”

_ “No no no no!” _ Jim cried out with a laugh. He rolled the bot backwards and shook its head, and Lana burst in a laugh that almost rang the bot’s speaker.

Jim watched her through the camera with a sigh.  _ Look at her. _ Her grin melted his insides and tightened his chest. It made risking rejection worth it.

Jim rolled back to her and pushed a button. Lana’s smile stretched further to one side as she took the little card, making her look almost shy. The butterflies stirred again.

Then she froze. Her smile disappeared in almost a blink and her eyebrows pinched.

“No no no.” Jim shook his head, dread washing through him. “Please don’t say no,” he begged in a whisper.

But she read the simple two-word question far too long.

…  _ Maybe this was a mistake. _

“Is it a romantic dinner?” she was quiet. Jim read her uncertainty all too clear.

Rejection made him start to shake the camera head.

Her smile a moment ago moved him to nod.

This was  _ different  _ than having no other choice. Wasn’t it?

She stared at the camera for a moment, brows upturned. Concern, reservation. And she knew Jim was behind the camera, waiting for an answer. Staring back through the lenses, he heard her question from last week all over again: _ “Why do you look at me like that?” _

Jim pushed the other button, and the claw hand retracted. Lana stared at the pen she accepted, frozen once more. Her brow pinched harder as she wrote a slow reply. With a deep breath, she wet her mouth and folded the card and held it out. As soon as the bot secured the card, Lana stood back up and resumed whatever lay on the counter.

Jim guided the bot back to his workshop with a sunken chest. He was afraid of what that last look on her face meant. He wondered how long it would be till she moved out of his room.

Jim stared at card with a spreading smile. It wasn’t what he feared  _ at all. _ A breathless laugh shook his chest as he re-read her reply for the sixth time. _ “As long as I don’t have to wear heels.” _ Relief almost watered his eyes. He set the note down and giggled into his hands, unable to wipe the grin off his face for the life of him.

After he composed himself, Jim strode to her kitchen. He stood in entry a while watching her roll out something green. The cats played around him, crashing into walls, stalking each other. She didn’t notice him over the noise.

“That was super awkward,” he announced himself. Her head zipped up. “I’m sorry.” He gave his best apologetic smile.

She stared back for a moment before she took a deep breath and nodded, and resumed pushing the rolling pin. “What’s the dress code?” she asked.

Jim’s turn to breath deep. She glanced up. “Whatever you’re comfortable in,” he told her. Even if she wore a sweater and jeans, Jim still planned on a suit. He wanted to look his best for her. When she hesitated again, Jim shifted. “What are you making?” he tried to change the awkward haze.

“Fondant.” She froze again, and her eyes darted. She looked at him with a wince of alarm. “I’m hoping you don’t know what that is.”

He couldn’t help a smile. “I’ll fight the urge to look it up online.”

“Thank you,” she breathed with a nod. A giggle shook through his chest.

“Uh… I hope seven’s okay,” he told her. “I made reservations. French.”

She stared at him. “That must have taken you months,” she joked.

Jim smiled again. “It wasn’t easy.” He shook his head. “I had to buy off the Hostess. Some  _ very  _ important people lost their table tonight.”

A shy, crooked smile reached her eyes, and the warm flood returned. He wanted to be happy with her. He wanted to  _ make  _ her happy.

He hoped the night went as planned.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild NSFW.

He didn’t think he should be nervous. They’d already seen each other naked, for crying out loud.  _ He shouldn’t be nervous. _

But he was. Jim was so nervous his hands kept shaking he couldn’t seem to cool down. He put on more deodorant than he normally wore and chose the best suit he thought could go with any dress she might wear… though she so far showed no interest in dresses or… date-type stuff. He hoped she liked how he looked in this suit. He hoped he wasn’t underdressed, or overdressed. Hoped he wasn’t sweating through.

_ Oh God, please don’t let this be a mistake. _

He wished he wasn’t so nervous.

But seeing her walk down the stairs changed it all. A long dress flowed behind her like water, splitting at the front to reveal one smooth leg at a time. Jewels and beads on a clinging top accented every curve and awoke curiosity like he didn’t know what she looked like under there. Her hair tied up in a loose bun with perfect tendrils falling down; something for him to brush away later. A hair pin, makeup, and necklace adorned her face in colors that matched her gown. She even painted her nails. She was like a sparkling orchid.

She dressed up for him. She wore  _ heels  _ for him.  _ Jim couldn’t stop staring. _ She was  _ perfect. _ Her effort made it all okay. She’d tried for him like he’d tried for her; though she came out far better. She replaced his nervousness with confidence.

_ It was okay now. _

“Wow…” Jim couldn’t get out more than that.

“Am I overdressed?” she worried. She worried about looking  _ too  _ good?

“No.” Jim shook his head. On a sudden aware how short of breath he was, a smile grew with a huff. “Definitely not.” He met her eyes as she approached. “You’re incredible.”

She stood before him and ducked her head, more shy than usual as she smoothed a dress that didn’t need smoothing. A finger twirled around a tendril before raising her head again. “I sort of… cheated with my hair,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to do this… feminine stuff very well. I went to the salon.”

Jim grinned. Robots with scissors made him nervous; he wouldn’t step into the salon if his life depended on it. He was glad she felt comfortable doing something on this ship, though. “You look fantastic,” he said instead. Her shy smile spread as he held out his arm.

“So do you. “

He smiled for her. “I did my best. I’m glad I decided not to go with the screaming-orange, sunburn-pink, and chartreuse. You’re  _ welcome,” _ he joked. Her face scrunched in a giggle.

_ Sweet and awkward. _

That’s how it began. The kind of awkward that came with mutual understanding of mutual attraction. The kind of awkwardness that came with knowing they’d agreed to make a grand leap together. To become closer. Embarking on a journey that would lead them to sexual intimacy and expose what vulnerabilities they had left.

Neither considered the elevator’s lapse of gravity when they dressed for the evening. Eyes scrunched and laughter rang as she struggled to keep her dress from floating all around. The cats found them as soon as they stepped off the elevator, and Jim spent more time moving them from the train of her dress than he spent watching where he walked. He smacked right into a customer service VI station, where he and Lana laughed before she composed herself to ask if he was okay.

They stopped in for a drink before supper. Arthur made a show of complimenting their attire and asked the occasion. _ Sweet and awkward _ when Jim and Lana met eyes before she stammered they were on a date.  _ Sweet and awkward _ when their eyes locked again while Arthur made their drinks.  _ Sweet and awkward _ when Lana giggled in relief when they left the bar because trying to be romantic in front of Arthur felt dirty.

She asked if he meant it. Stopped Jim outside the French restaurant and wanted to know if he meant when he called her beautiful. _ Of course he did. _ “How many times do I need to say it till you believe it?”

Sweet,  _ endearing, _ when she ignored the waiter bots to stare in his eyes. Staring like she saw only him. Like she wanted to feel what he offered but it frightened her. “Maybe for the rest of my life,” her reply came in a whisper.

_ Sweet and endearing _ the slow blink and content breath as he brushed tendrils from her face. “I might be able to do that,” he smiled for her.

_ “So…” _ Jim swirled the champagne in his glass. “There’s not a lot from your current life I don’t know.”

She shrugged her eyebrows and drank. “I know. I need to stop live-blogging my time in space,” she joked.

Jim smiled, more interested in watching her than drinking. “What’s something no one knows about you?”

She stared back in thought, then took a deep breath and shifted in her seat. “Trading my plans for the Nautilus Junior was worth more than two Gold Class passages on the Avalon and six acres of land on Homestead Two.” She sat back. The gems on her gown made her champagne sparkle like frosted berries.

Jim felt his brows leap. He wasn’t sure he heard right. “It was worth  _ more?” _ Standard class passage was expensive enough. Six acres on an alien planet was worth billions.

“Yep.” She nodded before tipping her glass into her mouth. “A  _ lot  _ more.”

“And you settled for  _ just  _ passage and six acres?”

“No.” She shook her head with a faint wince. “A trust fund for my daughter, two procedures, and a promise to make Homestead Two a place my daughter could thrive in… via my signature on an extremely large donation check.”

“Procedures?” he echoed.

“An incredibly  _ risky  _ procedure that almost  _ killed  _ me,” she emphasized with a tight nod. Jim felt his eyes jump. They stared at each other a moment before her face fell and she shook her head. _ “No.  _ Laser eye surgery and tooth repair. Literally two of the  _ least  _ dangerous procedures.” She glanced away with an embarrassed smirk.

Jim grinned. Her silly side was adorable. “Okay, next question.”

“Wait, is this an interview?” It sounded like a joke. “Do  _ I _ get to ask anything?”

“That depends on how you answer,” he teased. He chuckled at the look on her face, almost choking on his champagne. “A few months ago, you called me… what was it? Oh, yeah, a  _ ‘Good-looking Asshole’ _ ,” he recalled.

Her eyes narrowed in evaluation.

Jim tried his damnedest not to smile. “Do I  _ still  _ have a  _ Good-look--” _

Her laugh exploded in disbelief, overpowering the rest of his question. She hid her face, shoulders quaking, and Jim couldn’t wipe the smug grin from is face for the life of him. He waited a  _ week  _ to use that. He got a better reaction than he hoped for.

It took her a good few minutes to quiet down. Still jerking with occasional huffs, wiping under her eye-makeup lines with care, grin spreading with each stray laugh. A coo fell from her lips in a breathless giggle.

“I haven’t studied  _ that  _ part of you.  _ Yet,”  _ she added.

“Yet,” Jim echoed with a laugh. He brought the glass to his mouth with a grin he couldn’t wipe.

“But the grab-able thing that  _ surrounds  _ the asshole is pretty nice.”

_ “Oh, _ only  _ pretty  _ nice?” he teased. He fought a bigger grin, though. One time he’d walked out of the shower naked, she’d slapped his ass. He also swore she watched old footage of him walking around pants-less to admire. It pleased him beyond hell his body was her eye-candy.

_ “Well.” _ She shrugged with a sly smirk, eyes on her champagne. Another giggle shook her while she drank.

 

A few glasses of champagne pulled the awkward from their _ sweet and awkward _ date. Knowing they might -  _ planned to _ \- take the next step in a couple hours didn’t seem a thing to worry about, now. It was easier to flirt, more fun to tease. She reached for his hand as they walked through the concourse. Heels in one hand and his hand in the other, she looked at him like she was ready to try.

_ Ready. _

… Until he led her to the Dance-Off. Her hand let go and Jim’s arm fell to his side as he stepped into the arcade. He looked back to find her stopped outside, grimacing ahead.

“This is really what you want to  _ do  _ tonight?” she asked almost in dread.

He smiled. “Just…  _ please  _ come with me. For a  _ minute.”  _ She hesitated still. Jim sighed and held out his hand. “Please don’t make me beg for this,” he chuckled.

Still frowning in apprehension, she glanced down at her dress, then met his eyes and took his hand.

“Thank you.” He led her closer. “I prom-… I  _ hope  _ what we’re here for exempts me from sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Ouch.” Lana turned her head with laugh she couldn’t quite suppress.

The VI started up upon their approach, but before Jim could choose the mode, Lana grabbed his arm.

_ “Jim…” _ her brows tipped in concern. He followed her gaze to the player scores displayed along the wall. His name - the only name -  _ over  _ and  _ over and over,  _ and so on. Almost every score he’d ever had, showing his progress of mastery. Many times he’d played weren’t even on display; there were  _ that many. _ She met his eyes. “How--?” she couldn’t finish, but he knew.

Jim shrugged. “I didn’t have much to do till you came around. But that’s not why we’re here.” He stepped onto the stage. “You can stay there if you want.”

“You’re going to  _ dance  _ for me?” as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

Jim’s grin stretched so far it almost hurt. “Not yet,” he answered. “Single player,” he told the VI. Like always, lights and tiny fireworks appeared with a hologram dancer.

Not four seconds into the song, Lana froze with wide eyes.

Jim watched her as she listened. Darting eyes, recognition of something thought lost, listening so hard she forgot to breathe sometimes. He’d recorded songs from the ship-wide web and threw them in the auto-DJ program. Remixes of  _ My Little Pony _ songs. What her daughter loved. It wasn’t long before her mouth moved and she sang along in a breathless whisper.

Jim stepped off the platform, while Lana still stood speechless “Nevermind, scratch that.  _ Two _ -Player Mode,” he told the dance VI. He watched her while he shuffled through each difficulty selection. Eyes glossed as the songs played on, wonder and happy memories coupled with tears.

“How did you get these?” she almost wasn’t audible.

“They were online. Now that I know about your daughter, I think they might have been for her. Uh, I used a DJ program to mix them. I got the idea first researching the ponies. I noticed one of the songs had a similar beat to one here.” He paused for a moment. “We don’t have to dance tonight. I just wanted to show you. So you can come back later, when you’re ready. When cooking and painting and the cats aren’t enough. You know, or even just to listen to.” When wet eyes found his, he smiled for her.

“You did this for  _ me?”  _ Trying comprehending he did something to fill a void in her life, to make her happy.

_ “Actually,” _ he teased, “I did it for  _ Arthur. _ My Little Pony is one of his  _ many  _ shameful secrets.” Lana choked on a snort. Jim hesitated.  _ “And  _ I didn’t intend for this to be romantic. I want to make that clear. It’s just something I wanted to do, and… tonight seemed like a good time.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t blink as she stared back, though that didn’t stop her eyes from glossing.

“You’re welcome.” Below his sight, he found her hand and squeezed. Her gratitude was encouraging. It felt like he’d done the right thing, like he was on the right path. “But that’s not the grand finale, Jim,” he played. “You’re making my face leak, and we haven’t haven seen the best part.”

She choked out another laugh and ducked her head. Deep breath didn’t help like it should have. “It’s a good thing you wore waterproof eye makeup, Lana.”

_ “Totally,  _ Jim,” he kept a straight face. “This could have been a _ disaster. _ Zebra stripes down my face will  _ not  _ match this amazing dress.”

Another breathless giggle shook her. She met his eyes again with a sweet, glistening smile, blinking to move water from pooling and spilling. Soft arms embraced him and bled her warmth right into him. Jim closed his arms around her and kissed her head. “Thank you,” she repeated. “I might keep saying that for awhile. And I’m sorry if it sounds silly, but I mean it. Thank you so much, Jim.”

“I’m stoked it had such an impact.” He took the moment to smell her hair. Fruity and floral; scents that chimed as  _ feminine  _ and stirred deeper parts of him. He hoped the fact he did this to remind her of her daughter didn’t ruin the mood. “Are you ready for the best part?” He hoped  _ that  _ stirred deeper parts of  _ her. _

“Okay.” She pulled back again and blinked to clear her eyes. “What’s the best part?”

 

_ Better than a new song. _ At least so far so good.

Flowers, herbs, bushes, saplings, mature trees, an entire section of sprouts. Fruit trees, nut trees, tropical plants, desert plants. Land and water plants. All in their own form of hibernation, yet with blooms and berries and leaves, it was life. Roots, chutes, buds, and fruit. It was like walking through a park.

More in awe than when she first saw the livestock, breathing like she had to remind herself. Jaw hung frozen they walked through the arcs of live plants. Lana clung to him with one arm while the other hand touched every glass. Every now and then, she closed her mouth and swallowed, only to drop her jaw again speechless. From the awe in her face, she might have never seen plants before.

She lingered at the blooms, fingertips spreading like she could push petals open. “Have you ever seen orchids?” she asked.

“Isn’t that what we’re looking at?” Jim leaned over to re-read the label.

“No, I mean  _ seen  _ them? Like,  _ observed  _ them. Their  _ shape,” _ she clarified. “Or an oyster or mussel still in the shell?”

Jim looked at a spotted orchid before him. Other than resembling a leopard, it looked like any other blossom. Petals, sepals, pollinia… little different in shape than other flowers. “I may regret this, but what are you getting at?”

She did a double-take at him and blinked. “You don’t see it?” She didn’t seem to believe it.

“See what?”

She looked at the tiger orchids before him, then pulled him over to the violet ones she stood at. “Look here.”

Jim glanced at her, then bent to her height. “…What am I looking at?”

“It’s a  _ clitoris.”  _ Her fingertip pushed against glass. “See? Not the whole thing,” she shook her head. “Forget the big outer petals. But the little tongue and hood. See?”

Interest  _ locked,  _ barb and wire.

Jim saw it now, and wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. He almost laughed at the resemblance.

“The stigma even looks like a little vagina.”

Jim snorted. She had no issues calling intimate body parts by their clinical names, and somehow it always sounded adorable when she did it.

“Like a  _ open  _ vagina. And see that little bottom lip? It looks like a _ butt, _ when she’s all spread out.”

Jim’s eyes scrunched in a laugh he couldn’t stop. “You said oysters? Do I even want to know?”

Her eyes flew to him with far too much innocence for her last words. “Does the sushi bar have shellfish still in the whole shell so I can show you?”

Jim shook his head with a crooked smile. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Oh.” Her face fell, and Jim laughed again.

“Well, maybe the rest of nature is perverted.” He gestured around to all the plants. A moment of pause, then their eyes met. With awkward grins and nods, and giggles for extra measure, Jim and Lana began a mission to find more sexually suggestive flowers.

This wasn’t what Jim expected. He assumed she’d be amazed - and she had. Assumed she might ask for one. He  _ hoped  _ it would entice her and make her kiss him, and from there they’d migrate to the bed in a tangle of naked limbs. But this…

This was almost better. In the most ridiculous way, this was better than striking her affections through admiration.

Like she already had sex on her mind.

_ Yeah. Much better. _

_ “OOH! _ Here’s one!” She took off her heels again and leaned in to read. “Peony daisy.  _ Oh _ my  _ God, _ Jim, you need to see this!” a heavy giggle became a hearty laugh.

Jim joined her and almost hid his face in embarrassment. Otherwise lovely lace-like petals proudly showed off a long phallic shaft with a pink head. “This is  _ not at all _ what I thought we’d do here,” he laughed. Lana giggled into him with a guilty grin, bit her lip, then trailed on, eager like this was a scavenger hunt.

And it only got better. One resembled a protruding clitoris on a plump pillow  _ was actually named Clitoria. _ A poppy frozen in early bud looked like a prickly vulva. An orchid with a long, half-closed lip looked like a curtaining labia made her bury her face in Jim. Giggles and absolute mortification slid her down his arm, and Jim almost fell holding her up. When they found another phallic bloom, she asked it if was in appropriate to take their  _ favorites  _ out and freeze them back  _ into position _ with hair spray for the crew to unload on Homestead Two. Such a perverted joke they took it into serious consideration for a minute, prompting only more laughter.

What began for a laugh grew arousal. Maybe she’d even had sex on her mind _ all night. _ She  _ wanted  _ him; a better segue than Jim had planned. He hoped so. Each one they found spark more wonder. Every bloom roused him. No matter the color, he couldn’t stray his mind. Not that any resembled her  _ to his knowledge, _ but it struck curiosity like the first time he had sex.

He’d seen her naked before, but never like how they saw these flowers, and he hadn’t seen her naked since she’d shaved. He oggled over flowers and wondered if they looked like _ her. _ It didn’t help she wore a dress that accented her hips, glittering new reflections in the shape of her backside as she walked between the glowing vegetation pods.  _ Highlighting every curve he craved. _ The shadows and hue cast by her jeweled cowl collar made cleavage look plump and rosy;  _ ripe. _ It surprised him when he had to adjust himself in his pants without  _ too much _ notice. So soon, even without a tempting touch.

She saw him anyway. An innocent glance when he tried to be inconspicuous; and he worried only  _ he  _ was aroused. Worried he’d imagined her intent. Her eyes flew to his as she tugged at his crotch, and she turned her head in apology. She thought he would point out another flower, “not reach down...” Jim apologized too, though his was broken with embarrassed laughter.  

Like that, it was back to  _ sweet and awkward. _

Giggles all but fled as they walked through the arc of roses. Nothing but the sound of their faint footsteps for a moment, fueled by a potent display of his attraction to her. Then her hand slipped into his.

Her lips stretched in a sweet smile and she squeezed his hand. Assuring when there were no words yet. Jim could only smile, grateful when he still felt too embarrassed to do much else but apologize.

“You know, this is only the second date I’ve ever been on,” she admitted, looking around again.

_ “Only? _ You’re not serious. Are you?” Jim knew she was six years older than him. Not to mention she had a child.

She tried to hold in a laugh with a long, slow nod. “Yep. Uh…” she huffed again with a crooked grin. “My other date, I was eighteen… and we brought an  _ Ouija  _ board to a  _ cemetery  _ at sunset.”

“Wow.” Jim tried not to smile. “That sounds…” Holding in his grin failed when she met his eyes with a sheepish smirk. “Very romantic.” Her giggle made him giggle.

“Yeah,” she breathed hard. “Earth was fun.”

Jim chuckled and threaded his finger around hers with a squeeze. “It could be worse. You could have taken three different people six years apart to a state fair and been thrown up on by each of them.”

_ “Oh, _ my god.” She stared in horror and apology, attempting to bite back a smile.

Jim laughed and nodded. “It could  _ always  _ be worse than a graveyard at sunset.”

“I meant to say  _ Thank You,” _ she winced, searching his eyes. “I didn’t…” her eyes drifted. “I didn’t think I’d ever go on a date again.” She looked at him again. Sweet and only a  _ little  _ awkward this time. “So, thank you. I’ve had fun, Jim.”

“Me too.”

Her eyes locked on a rosebush just past him. “Is it possible to cut some of these for the room? Is this where you got that rose you sent?”

Jim stared for a second. He hadn’t known she’d liked the rose he sent. “Yes and yes,” he answered. He looked around at the various roses. “Which ones would you like?”

As close to a rainbow as she could find. He’d have to open a few containers, but it was already worth the anticipation on her face. Jim smiled at her as he brought a rosebush out of suspension and lifted the glass covering. A deep inhale followed by a his name with a tender hand on his back.

“Smells wonderful, doesn’t it?” he said.

“I’m tempted to plug up the sink and  _ plant  _ this,” she breathed.

Jim stared at her a moment before turning to seek the perfect rose again. “That’s brilliant. But I’ll dig out a container,” he chuckled. “It would be nice to use the sink once in a while.”

_ “Only _ once in awhile,” she joked. She made a little noise as he found the perfect blossom. “You know,” she whispered, “I feel like an angry beast will burst in any second screaming to  _ get out, _ and we’ll need to run into a pack of wolves to escape it. Then we’ll be forced to drag him back to safety, nurse him back to health, and teach him table manners.”

It took Jim a second to realize she referenced  _ Beauty and the Beast. _ He glanced at her with a grin,  handing her the rose so he could put the plant back in stasis. “Well, if that beast decides to fall in love with you, he and I will need to step outside,” he joked.

Silence turned his head when a last push of his finger froze the bush in time again. Jim found her staring, searching him.

He couldn’t read her. Had he said the wrong thing?

He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but before he finished the first word, he was locked in her lips. On her toes, holding his collar to keep him in reach, they froze in the moment of the first kiss.

Not the  _ first  _ kiss, but the first one evoked by passion. Jim breathed in place, drinking in the tingle that spread through his chest. An internal dare to _ taste more _ drew noise. Breath held too long came in a whine as lips pushed harder. Beneath the start of curious exploration, arms closed. Hands conformed to curves and ran up fabric to brace her jaw. He moved his head and found her tongue; another breathless sound.  _ “Jim,” _ his name came like a song with eager grip. She stood higher, pressed harder, fingers fumbling with the top buttons grazed in tiny explosions that awoke him once more. A second button free. She held the back of his head and closed the gap between them. Teeth clamped over his lower lip as she pulled away, eyes locked. Jim groaned and his body responded on its own, arching into her as he grabbed her hips.

_ An eternity _ of  _ finally  _ delving into what they denied themselves each day.

Eternity broken by a sudden withdrawal and a breathless apology.

“I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean to--” She sank in a hard sigh. “I didn’t think something like that could…”

Jim stopped her fingers from buttoning his shirt back up. “You don’t want to?” His rumbled low and husky from his throat. She looked caught, searched him like morality was the issue.

Words hesitated on her lips. “… _ Yes. _ But… is  _ this right? _ Jim? We’re  _ stuck  _ on a--” she broke off in a sigh.

“Is  _ anything  _ right anymore?” he replied. Her eyes found his again. Before she could back away and fight whatever she felt again, Jim bent and pushed his lips to hers. A small noise spilled from her mouth when he pulled her back in against him. “Come to bed with me,” he murmured. “We’ll  _ make  _ it right.”

_ Fervent  _ and awkward. The ride back through roused concern when the area lights flickered off and the car powered down, but instead of trying to walk back, she kissed him. Finding each other in pitch dark brought giggles and apologies. For what seemed like hours, the only sounds were eager mouths, urgent noises, and stolen breath. As soon as he pulled her on his lap, the car awoke and the area lit up. They meant to try in the car, fit themselves together best they could, but the car scolded them. The VI refused to continue driving until she returned to her seat, and it would not stop reminding her. Worked up and called out by a computer program, they shifted in separate seats while the car took far too long to return.

Jim didn’t waste the ride, though. He leaned over, secured his mouth again, and made his way up her thigh. Fingers gripped his hair and breathless whimpers filled the car. A hand joined his between her legs, thighs trembled and nails dug at his knuckles. Every noise she made called to his groin. He tasted her neck, sucking while he rubbed below, trailing his tongue to make her shiver. Hips wiggled and arched with touch. He took the lobe of her ear in his teeth and nipped.

And the car stopped.

Jim pulled back at looked around. They’d reached the cargo doors.  _ She was so close. _

_ Fucking machines. _

The gasping woman beside him whined for him. Jim met her gaze and smiled. Flustered, short of breath,  _ wanting more.  _ Wanting _ him.  _ He leaned in and kissed her, promising to finish in bed, then forced himself out of the car so he could do things  _ right  _ in their room.

_ Awkward  _ as they walked, trying to pretend they weren’t aroused, trying to pretend the bulge in his pants wasn’t obvious. It didn’t matter no one else was around to see. Awkward and  _ acceding  _ as they paused at the open door of their suite.

_ This was it. _ Crossing this threshold right now together _ like this _ meant losing themselves in desire. It would change how they saw each other tomorrow.

One last chance to play it safe, to always have a  _ friend. _ And make peace with their hands till death.

She kissed him square and pushed him in the room.

_ This was it. _

Hands fumbled, fingers tangled. A button broke off. She interrupted his hands to push his shirt off. Gems on her dress made noise as it hit the steps, and they almost tripped. Skin, curves as if never seen before, bodies ripe and calling for attention. It was all new right now.

A hand slid up his chest through a kiss. “What’s  _ this  _ button do?” Innocent enough, until she pinched and plucked his nipple. Like a line of gunpowder, it went straight to his groin. Jim laughed without breath as his erection twitched between them. She fell into him with a moan of needing and awe. Another pluck, another twitch, and their eyes met. She reached down and gripped his shaft; Jim shoved his mouth with a groan of his own and picked her up.

Jim remained standing when he set her on the bed. She stared up at him as she sat back, nude and baring, breasts heaving with every breath. Her eyes landed on his erection, and like reflex, her knees spread further. _ Ready. _ He grinned at the look on her face when he sank to his knees. Anticipation, appreciation already as she leaned back. Jim bit his lip and crawled over, sliding his hands around her to brace her hips

“Tell me if I do this wrong.” 

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild NSFW.

“This doesn’t feel real.”

 Jim had to agree. Even in the heat of it all, it felt too good to be true. Months of nothing but trying to make a forced fate easier to accept as platonic castaways, and the night exposed stifled attraction. Not only desire constrained by solitude, but __need__ for the body they each slept next to at night. He asked her to guide him, he wanted it __perfect.__ He insisted, and after a few victorious commands, whatever shackles she’d kept herself in her whole life shattered. She wanted __all__ of him __everywhere, she__ wanted to be everywhere. Her assertion encouraged him, and in a tangle of limbs, lips, tongues, and fingers, they kept each other on the brink of climax till they all but exploded. Moans and grunts and pules and cries, and the scent of overstimulated sex. __Perfect.__

She was right. It didn’t feel real. In the moment, it couldn’t get any better. But now, after heartbeats and breath calmed and steamy skin dried, their passion felt like something out of an adult film, or a romance novel. Sex like this never happened to __Jim.__  

“I hear that,” he replied. With one hand, Jim caressed her arm, while the other held her head close. The scent of her skin from her peak moments ago lingered in her hair now. It was beautiful, sexy, something __he’d__ done. He supposed it contributed to fairytale feeling.

“Doesn’t feel like my life. Or maybe,” she said, tangling her fingers through the hair on his chest. “… I’m not really me.”

“Why do you say that?” He turned into her head and kissed her.

“I’m not the type of woman who has… incredible sex with gorgeous men who just happen to be amazing.”

Jim listened for awhile, relating, but no clue how to reply.

“It makes me wonder if this is just a dream, and right now, I’m someone else. Like the person I am right now is just a figment of my imagination who-- is good enough for a guy like you. For once,” she trailed off.

A hum rumbled through Jim’s throat. “Then we’re __both__ dreaming,” he offered. “That can’t be all this is, though. Can it? Can’t __something__ good come out of being stranded?”


	17. Chapter 17

It was different than he expected. Different than his past relationships; they all lacked the vulnerability he had with Lana. Hesitation only when they first awoke dissipated in an instant with a morning kiss. Kissing became foreplay. The night’s passion resumed as if sleep never interrupted, and a second time. And a third in the shower. He accidentally ripped a button off when she tried to dress.  _ They couldn’t get enough.    _

Out of bed and dressed at last, Jim began the late day by compiling the bouquet she wanted, and lust followed when he delivered the roses to her kitchen. Whatever she worked on became a dripping, powdery mess as gratitude became urgent desire. Romance persisted no matter where they went, and it wasn’t  _ just  _ pleasure. It felt like an iron stamp; resolute. A substantial upgrade and a promise of hope.  _ Together. _

It was one more reason to endure the long, lonely ride through space.

Their date wasn’t quite over, either. Jim took her through the hibernation bay to the space suits. She hesitated at a suit, and Jim recalled her words from the pool some time ago: with only her and Jim awake, space made her feel  _ more  _ alone. Jim promised it was better to be out in it, rather than staring out from the inside. It  _ had  _ felt lonely before, but now he had someone to share the experience with.

It took her breath, and again when Jim de-magnetized her boots. Clutching his hand through thick gloves, Lana stared without blinking or breath. The stillness of wonder, of realizing you were so trivial to a magnitude unable to be seen from Earth. Jim didn’t interrupt her silence, he only watched her, watched with her.A loud return of breath broke the dam in her eyes.

“Equal parts lonely and breathtaking. The oddest fucking mix I’ve seen,” from inside the space suit, she sounded like she spoke through a tunnel. “I never knew something so beautiful could feel so empty.” Another gasp and spill of tears. “I never thought  _ I’d  _ be out here.  _ In  _ it, like now. I always thought it would teem with life. You know? Like a highway of busy commuters.” She turned her back to the ship, still holding on to Jim. “I didn’t think I’d have the universe all to myself.”

Jim twined the thick fingers of his glove with hers. “You’re not out here by yourself,” he reminded her. She hesitated returning his gaze. _ “I’m _ here with you. You’re not alone.”

Her eyes glistened all over again.

 

The following weeks played a similar tune. She wasn’t fond of stepping outside, but there was no need to seek excitement there. Arousal waded around them in an atmosphere of its own control, and with the ship to themselves, anywhere became the perfect place. Bodies starved of touch for so long thrived. It was hard to focus. Hard to eat, hard to work. Hard to be apart.

As weeks turned to months, the honeymoon phase waned. In past relationships when this transition hit, Jim felt less desired, neglected. He began to feel it would end. Now, with her, it excited him. It gave him time to surprise her, to make or hunt down things to ease their time aboard. She took her own time, busy in her kitchen - even told him to stay out once because he couldn’t see  _ It  _ until she was finished. It bought Jim time to transform a vase in their suite into a flower pot. Other times, it bought him time to plant little sweet cards with a blossom around the ship. Another, he left a trail of little romantic trinkets from her kitchen to their bed, where he’d tossed rose petals and left champagne.

When new smells rose from her kitchen, Jim began asking if he could peek. Once, she spent half the day rummaging through food storage, then returned declaring she missed chocolate. And her experiments went on. These were Jim’s favorite weeks. Stepping into the cargo bay was like stepping into a chocolate factory. Warm chocolate scented the air and made his mouth water. Chocolates with nuts, spiced chocolate, milk chocolate, chocolate and coconut. She perfected alcohol-filled truffles, and they spent half a day buzzed and giggling, and took turns seducing each other all too easy. She called him in to taste all her creations; sometimes Jim went to test before she called. He felt almost like a kid trying chocolate for the first time all over again. Jim counted those days some of the best in his life.

As hard as he worked to surprise her, she never failed on her end. If she woke before he did, Jim found a little satchel of chocolates on her pillow. One morning, she said she didn’t feel like cooking, so they went to the food court, where Jim found she’d already prepared breakfast fondue and coffee cheesecake. When he sent his little camera-topped vacuum bot to ask what time she wanted dinner, it came back with a little cup of fancy chocolates. Another time, Jim let her sleep in and went for coffee in Arthur’s bar, only to find the bar decorated with little sweets. Other times, he turned a corner and she was there, or she rushed on the elevator with him, and she ambushed him for a moment of passion. Sex in zero gravity was something else. 

One night, after a long day when Jim couldn’t distract himself from the impending doom on a ship in empty space, he sulked to the bar. Lana sat warm and welcoming with a childhood treat he mentioned missing days ago. Marshmallows, chocolate, and sweet crackers, with a tiny counter-top fire pit. She eased his heart and mind like she knew he needed it.  

She  _ always  _ knew when he needed her.

Every time he found her surprises, the notion she was _ the one _ for him grew stronger. He knew how hard and long she worked to perfect her chocolates; to make  _ anything. _ Discovering half her efforts were for him all along swelled his heart. The fact they were each other’s only options didn’t lessen the feeling. It didn’t feel like the case, she never  _ had  _ to open up to him. But here she was anyway. She always knew how to lift his spirits and bring hope back to the front of his mind. It was better than he knew settling down with someone  _ could  _ be. 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW.

Jim’s birthday arrived almost without warning. Calendars felt unimportant, but the V.I. in the bedroom wall clock reminded them each time they walked by.

To his dismay, he awoke to an empty bed. Lana had left a note saying she’d had trouble sleeping and she’d be with Arthur when Jim woke. They didn’t discus birthdays, so he couldn’t expect her to remember. But disappointment sank his heart anyway.

Then he stepped out of the elevator, and froze.

There she was, wearing a famous Van Gogh painting as a dress. Long legs, matching heels, hair curled liked spirals, and she stood before a large banner with HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIM! painted in cheerful colors. Bright balloons bobbed in the air at the corners of the banner.

His heart swelled in an instant.

Before Jim could say anything, she gushed: “I’ve been on _espresso_ since three a.m., I’m a little - a _lot_ \- wired right now, I _may_ pass _out_ in a few hours, but _good_ morning and _happy birthday!”_

Surprised in the best way and flushed inside, Jim could only chuckle and grin. “This is why you couldn’t sleep?” He looked around as he walked past the fountain. Balloons and ribbon decorated the walls and railing. He couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say. He hadn’t expected _anything_ for his birthday. He thought she _forgot._ Instead, he got this. He met her eyes when he approached, unable to suppress his delight.

“Yeah. And I’m glad you didn’t wake up and come looking for me, that would have ruined everything,” she rushed out again. She winced through a smile. “I’m going three-thousand miles this morning, I’m sorry.”

Jim could only grin. “No, this is perfect.” She stood on her toes and met him in a kiss. _“You’re_ perfect. Thank you so much.”

Shyness took her over, and his next kiss met her temple instead. She seemed surprised he liked her surprise so much. “Are you hungry? I haven’t cooked yet. I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“Maybe just coffee for now. I kind of want to walk around and see the place. How did you hide all this from me?” he chuckled.

“I did most of it during the night. Except the cake and supper, sort of.”

“You made me a cake?” Jim walked backwards and in circles, eyes on all the balloons and ribbons and her at once.

“Yes. You can’t see it yet.” She wore a smirk as she followed him.

He couldn’t help a grin. No one had done so much for his birthday since… he was still in high school. Past girlfriends bought him cakes and dropped to their knees, or wine and sex. But nothing like this. Jim missed surprises like this. “What do you mean _sort of?”_

“Oh, dinner. I pre-made it, but I need to cook it later.”

“Am I allowed to know what it is?”

“Not now,” she giggled.

Jim grinned at her as he ascended the stairs. “I love it, already. _All_ of it. I feel like a kid right now.”

 _“Oh,_ then I guess _sex_ is out of the question today.”

Jim laughed aloud. _“Hey,_ now, I never said that.”

 

The day was better than he could have imagined. His favorite breakfast followed by his favorite blended coffee while they walked through an arch of balloons in the concourse. _How did he not know she planned this?_ Every so often, Jim noticed coins lying around. If they weren’t on a high-tech ship where every penny was digital, he might not have seen them at all. When he spotted a fourth by the fountain, Lana suggested he make a wish. Jim watched her while he thought, and stared at her smirk when he tossed the coin. She spun away with her hands behind her back and announced there were nine more he needed to find. He should remember where he found them, because they would show him the way.

If he found them all, he’d get another surprise.

She didn’t make it easy. Like hunting Easter eggs in a blooming field. Pennies were easy to spot, but dimes and nickels on silver took studious seeking. Jim laughed to himself with each one he picked up, returned her smirk with each one he tossed in the fountain. When he tossed the last coin, Lana pulled a scarf from under her dress and tied it over his eyes. Jim couldn’t stop grinning as she led him through the concourse

Without notice, she rushed him to the left and the cool pressed against his back. Before he could ask what happened, her mouth was on his. Her fingers tugged his shirt up and unbuttoned his jeans. _Sex with a blindfold._ The thought alone enticed him, but now that he was thrown into it…

“Shhhh,” she murmured into his mouth, yanking his pants down his hips. “Arthur’s just around the corner.”

That was _so_ much better. Jim laughed, still unable to see, already short of breath. He hoped Arthur couldn’t see them.

He’d never used a blindfold during sex before, never considered using one on himself. He had no idea what to expect, couldn’t see where she went. Every graze sent a thousand tingles all over his body and converged at his groin. Nails raking down his front twitched his cock, a hard pluck to his nipples bucked him. Breath on his erection stopped time. For an eternity, she did nothing but breath on him. Her hands pinned his to the wall; _no touching._ She teased him. The tip of her tongue stole his breath, dotting up his shaft, lingering on the knot. A hot tongue wet his crown before she kissed, flooding heat and sensation from her lips. She released him with a noise that seemed to echo in the empty hall, dragging her tongue back down, sparking every nerve in his groin.

She pulled away with loud breath. “I’ll have to delete this from the security cam later.”

Jim’s breathless laugh cut short with nails at his rear. In a single moment, a mouth closed around him and she squeezed his ass. A whine broke from his throat before he could stop it, mouth hitched farther as she tightened her lips at the base of his shaft. She pulled back to his crown, _wet hot_ hugging him, _blinding if he wasn’t already blindfolded,_ fingers raked over his thighs. A palm pushed his sack and kneaded, squishing him while she sucked. She pulled _harder, faster;_ it was hard not to touch her, hard to keep his groans and gasps low when he couldn’t see. _She_ moaned, as if what she smothered was a delicacy. _Constant, perfect pleasure._ His balls clenched, jerked, _bliss_ shot up. _Perfect_ pressure rose like his life depended on it. Jim broke her only rule and grabbed her head as her efforts swelled to his crown and erupted.

Her name came out a broken whisper as he stuttered in her mouth.

Relief sank his head against the wall with a sigh. Still under the blindfold, he winced as he fell from her mouth with a noise.

 _“Dammit._ My _lipstick_ came off.”

A laugh shook his whole top half. He heard her shoes, felt her the pleats of her dress brush up his legs, and Jim reached for her.

“Happy Birthday,” she murmured at his lips. Another eternity, kisses so sweet and tender he almost melted into her.

“You are amazing,” he mumbled back between kisses. “Can I take this off yet?”

“What, you don’t like being led into walls?”

Jim grinned again. “If _anyone_ leads me smack into a wall again, I hope it’s you.”

While tender hands reached up and untied the scarf, Jim fixed himself back up in his pants. “We do have a lot of ship left to cover.”

He moaned through another kiss. “What about you, though?”

“What about me?”

“You’re going to spend all day surprising me? When do _I_ get to tell you be quiet because Arthur’s around the corner?”

She giggled. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“If you keep this up, it won’t be,” he chuckled at himself.

“I know you’re tired of the theater,” she said, stepping back as he buttoned his shirt. “But I found movies on my thumb drive.” Their eyes met. “And I may have hacked them into the screening room.”

“New movies?” As if she hadn’t surprised him enough.

“Yeah.” She smiled his favorite smirk.

“When did you become so sneaky?” he teased.

“Oh, don’t say that so soon.” She shook her head and stepped away, eyes still on him. “But seriously, do you know how hard it is to keep a secret from the only other person here?”

Jim grinned again. “I have an idea.”

“Come on. Drinks first. And more espresso. Otherwise I might fall asleep.”

 

 _“There’s_ the birthday boy!” Arthur smiled as they walked in.

“He’s a _man,_ now, Arthur. This is a _big day_ for him,” Lana teases, nodding. Jim grins.

 _“Ah,_ a _big_ birthday boy. I have _just_ the thing.” Arthur reached beneath the bar as Jim and Lana sat down. What he pulled out made Jim laugh so hard he almost cried. “Here you _are.”_ Arthur held up a bright, striped party hat with tassels and set a cup of juice before Jim.

“You have _got_ to be kidding!” Jim laughed, watching Lana stretch the elastic string on the hat.

“We are most certainly _not_ kidding.” She brought the hat over and fit it over his head.

“Do I really have to wear this?” Jim couldn’t stop his grin though.

“Oh, yes, you do. That’s the _law_ of the _Birth_ Day.” She nodded with a _Mother Knows Best_ facade. “I didn’t make the rules, Jim. Nature did.” Jim laughed aloud again. “See? Even Arthur knows this rule.” As Jim looked over to see a spotted party hat on the android, Lana pulled one of her own on.

“Only one of us looks quite so dashing, though,” Arthur played back, smiling at her. “Now, what can I _really_ get you?”

Jim made a noise of thought. “Let’s spice things up today, Arthur. How ‘bout Scotch on the rocks.”

Arthur whirred around to grab a bottle of Scotch. “Spicing whiskey with smoked peat,” he commented, uncorking the bottle.

“A brilliant modification,” Lana said. “It smells wonderful.”

He slid the glass to Jim, then looked at her. “And what can I get for you?”

She took a deep breath. “Blended Kahlua and cream, please, with four shots of espresso.”

 _“Four_ this time? I hope you’re not neglecting _you_ on this spectacular day.”

“Sorry, Arthur. Birthday boys are high maintenance-”

“Hey!” Jim laughed through a sip.

“-You know how it is.” A sweet smirk played on her lips.

 

New movies and silly party hats weren’t the last of her surprises. Aside from movies to last months, one of many things she hid from him the past month were clay figurines. She led him up to the food court for lunch, and Jim found a collection of _Pigeon_ bots corralled by tables turned over. Like she called them, the bots now wore clay pigeon head hats, with a few duck heads thrown in for variety. The cats hung over the tables watching like they weren’t sure what these new creatures were but wanted to pounce anyway. For an “authentic feel,” easels Jim made months ago propped a string of paintings that, together, became a mural. A lake in a park, complete with lily pads, clovers, with ducks and squirrels. Rays of sunshine poked through tree, and leaning leaves, cattails, flowers, and pond ripples gave the impression a breeze blew. A scene Jim had never seen, but it bled _life_ the Avalon would never have. The dressed up _Pigeons_ seemed almost nothing short of real now. Jim couldn’t help but grin when Lana ordered toast from the breakfast bar and pulled him to a pair of chairs at one end. And like real ducks and pigeons, each crumb was raced for.

“If only we had a real lake,” she said as they broke crust into two more pieces. She made little pigeon and duck noises with each crumb she tossed.

For a moment, Jim watched her _feed_ the _pigeons and ducks._ So much work to transport him to paradise, and it _fruited._ He spent half the day forgetting they were alone in a metal trap. “This is perfect, Lana. I never would have thought of this.” Her heart was all over the ship now. She _skipped sleep_ to make him forget they were stranded in metal walls. She did this for _him._ “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He didn’t need to. The surprises didn’t seem to stop. After lunch was a trip to the dance off gaming stage. She took one look at his doubtful face - she did _not_ dance - before hopping on stage and ordering two-player mode.

Jim stared and grinned in curiosity and amusement; her name wasn’t on the player scores. This was the closest he ever saw of her dancing. The dance music blared, lights flashed flashed and hologram dancers stood in challenging positions. Jim followed his cue to the point; he knew it by heart after a year alone.

And she blew his mind again. Bright fabric twirled around her as she shook and dipped like she’d programmed the dance. As if she’d always danced with him.

A loud noise of approval echoed from Jim. “Holy shit. Where did you learn to dance? Maybe we _should_ stop!” he teased in the short break before round two. “Can’t have you breaking the machine!”

Lana shrugged with the cutest grin. Shy, and Jim wasn’t confident she even wanted to be here; not for herself, anyway. “I… may have studied you dancing on the security cams.” She yelped, almost missing her cue to begin with a jump.

She was here for _him._

It didn’t go quite as she planned, though. As Partner Mode rose in challenge, they became more aware of each other’s bodies. The trick: dance as close, as fast as possible without hitting their limbs. They knew the moves, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was trying to focus when they saw each other move like never before. Fun and giggles became erotic, _sensual._ Erotic and sensual became _need, now. Raw desire._ He _smelled_ her each time she turned, when she faced him. Her perfume, her breath. _Hot skin._ Before they finished the sixth round, hands struggled to liberate, and Jim had her up against the wall.

And the surprises still didn’t end. With her winding down at last, they headed to the bar again to relax, only for Arthur to begin singing as he lit candles. Lana joined in on the melodic _Happy Birthday,_ and Jim could only grin. Waiting on the bar was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cake. For the first time in his life, Jim understood what it meant to be _tickled._ His partner conspired with the robot bartender to create a perfect birthday.

“Is this why you asked me what Turtle I’d be?” Jim grinned as he cut a piece of cake for Lana.

“No.” She shook head with a sweet, sleepy smile. “That was the ruse. I got the idea for this… about two seconds right before that.” She grinned crooked in a quiet laugh that shook her chest. “But this is what the fondant was for. The day you sent your little bot over to ask for dinner.”

Jim remembered the day with a grin. _All this work for him_ . How did _he_ get so lucky?

After a slice of cake and a drink, Lana needed a nap. She left Jim at the bar, but it turned out Arthur had surprises of his own. Part of planning, Arthur revealed as he shuffled a deck of playing cards, was teaching the bartender games. Things Jim could do with Arthur when Lana was busy; or in this case, napping.

Jim stared for a moment, thoughts on the woman about to fall onto his bed, and he couldn’t stop grinning. Though, the grin was there to hide a swell behind his eyes. Lana gave them one more thing to do when the emptiness of the ship smothered them. One more way to escape _together_ so the airlock couldn't tempt them again.

The humor of it: Arthur, as a robot, would always win, even on Jim’s birthday.

The rest of his day was better than Jim could have imagined. Nearing their usual supper time, Lana returned with more surprises. A fresh pizza, homemade chips, hot dip, and homemade ice cream. Jim laughed at all those times she forbade him from entering her kitchen. And he adored her that much more; _comforts of a world he'd never see again. To make his birthday even better._ A few more espressos with food, and she was back to normal. Then after an evening of drinks and giggling, of closer sitting and sly grazes below Arthur’s line of sight, they turned in for the night. She blew his mind once more, worshiped his body, _made him whimper for her,_ before peaking herself on top of him.

When she lay hard asleep against him, Jim could only stare. She didn’t stir when he played his fingers in her hair, or when he plucked her lip. It didn’t seem like a ship anymore. Over two years, half that time alone, but it wasn’t a boat floating in space anymore. Not empty, not alone. With a few paints, a few cups of sugar and flour, she transformed it. _Entirely._ It didn’t even feel like they were _trying_ to pass time to forget they were cheated out of life. It felt like… _home._

And at long last, he had someone to make him feel this way. She _changed_ his _fate._

 _She_ did this.

_Jim was home._

 


	19. Chapter 19

It felt like home. They  _ knew  _ they were on a ship, awoken too soon and alone. But it  _ felt  _ like they’d started a new chapter of life. It felt like they took a leap and rented a house together. Almost like newlyweds. Jim saw the empty ship around them, but his life felt full. Cats who behaved like children, a beautiful, doting partner to end each day with. To  _ start  _ each day with. They had settled down, and Arthur and the other robots were neighbors they could count on to always be there. Jim could count on  _ her  _ to be there.

She felt like  _ wife. _

Jim grew carried away watching her more often than not. With birthdays aside and holidays not for a few months, the woman sharing Jim’s life began experimenting with her look. If she wasn’t in the kitchen or studio, she was on the concourse or their apartment trying new nail polish or make-up. Today, she stood at the vanity with a book borrowed from the salon. Curling iron wrapped at the back of her head, she leaned over and peered at a magazine lying open before her. Her fingers trailed across the page before she raised her head and tilted the iron. She turned as if she could see the back of her head in the mirror. Jim leaned against the doorway, and as she turned again, their eyes met in the mirror.

She watched him watch her. Her shoulders curled in a little, narrowing her frame. Shy, even after what they’d been through together. Jim couldn’t help but smile.

“If you want use the curling iron, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait your turn,” she joked with a straight face. “I expect to be another…” she glanced back at the magazine. “-six to eight minutes.”

Jim’s smile stretched. He wasn’t convinced his lack of options in company was the only reason she was funny. “That  _ is  _ disappointing,” he joked back. “I had hoped for a makeover by three.” For extra measure, he glanced at his watch. “I suppose I’ll have to improvise. Is the  _ crimper  _ free?”

She grimaced in apology. “I’m pretty sure they stopped making those sixty-” Her eyes darted. “- _ ninety  _ years ago.”

A chuckle bubbled up from Jim’s throat. “Well, there goes  _ my  _ day.” A grin took over her face as she looked away, shaking her head.

She stopped a little timer and pulled the curling iron from her hair, letting another long ringlet fall to her shoulder. Jim couldn’t help staring again. She didn’t need the make-up and hair styles to be beautiful. He understood it gave her something to do, so he never discouraged her. He even liked it. Some styles and colors made certain features stand out, some made her too cute for her own good. Some struck chords deep inside that interrupted the day with romance. But she never  _ needed  _ them.

In fact, he’d peeked in to spill some emotion before heading out for the day.

Jim waited till she finished wrapping another tuft of hair around the iron. She flipped a page, read a bit. Her eyes landed back on him through the mirror as she stood straighter and shifted her weight.  

Smiling was almost a reflex when he looked at her. “I love you,” he told her.

He meant it. She’d slept next to him five months. They’d been sexually intimate almost three.  Some time ago, she stopped being someone Jim could die with and became someone to live with. She made his days not just easier, but full.  _ Fulfilling. _ Became someone Jim couldn’t wait to wake up with. Partner.  _ Life mate. _

Someone he had chosen, not someone he got stuck with.

He meant it more than he knew how to say.

She stared at him in the mirror, searching without words. Jim didn’t expect any. He knew she struggled with this sort of stuff. She still struggled with eating sometimes; still sat by her daughter’s pod each night. Jim only wanted her to know. She often didn’t pick up on - or believe - gestures. He learned some time ago it was best to tell her outright what he felt. And he did, he meant it to his core.

A quiet alarm sounded off and Lana took a deep breath. Jim stood up from the door frame as she took the metal curler from her hair, eyes on herself again.

Jim smiled, again. “I’m going to botanical storage today. You sure you don’t want me to get more than roses?”

She paused like she struggled with the transition. He understood that, too. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like he changed the subject because she didn’t respond.

He… could have asked about plants first, then left the room with a kiss and his love.

“Actually,” she didn’t meet his eyes before she began rolling the iron around more hair. “I think a… variety would be nice. Maybe tulips, also. And mint. Lilacs and citronella, too.” She frowned a little, then met his eyes. “Didn’t we see citronella?”

“Yeah.” Jim nodded. “And a few types of mint, if I recall.” He stared again. She had a hard enough time with him saying she was beautiful. Jim hoped she believed he loved her.

He might have to leave sweet notes around again.

“Any particular mint you want?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I like them all. Whatever you choose is fine.”

“Okay.” Jim stepped over. “I’ll see you in a few hours?” He put a hand on the small of her back as she looked at him.

“Yeah. I need to make broth today, so I’ll probably be in the kitchen when you get back.”

“Sounds good.” Jim leaned down and put his lips to hers. “Have a good time.” He kissed her again, and lingered. She was soft, tender. She always lingered on his lips like nothing compared.

He loved kissing her.

Careful of the hot iron at the back of her head, Jim braced her neck and met her eyes with a smile. “Thank you for being in my life.”

She froze once more and searched him.

He meant it. She could have chosen to leave him alone. But she didn’t.

Jim smiled bigger before pressing in for another kiss. He hoped one day she’d believed him.

 

 

Turning decorative vases into planters enlightened more than the apartment. Before showering away evidence he’d played in bags of fertilized soil, Jim looked around. Three kinds of mint, citronella, and the flowers Lana wanted. The apartment smelled  _ great. _ Seven plants spread out, yet it transformed the place almost in whole. A whole new level of life, color, and scents Jim didn’t remember even from Earth. He wondered if this what Lana meant by her  _ Nautilus Jr  _ would be a _ living Eden.  _ He was tempted to plant a flower garden in the Grand Concourse.

If only Jim had woken butterflies, too.

... the Concourse could actually  _ hold  _ a flower garden. An entire garden, not the few plants he set up in here. A few gardens, even, around the fountain. Bring a few spare dining chairs up from storage and bolt them to the floor, make a little sitting area. Maybe figure out how to plant a tree there; a fruit tree could grow in a spare garbage bin. If he had flowers and a tree out… and maybe a small herb garden… then Jim  _ could  _ wake butterflies.

They could have park to stroll through. A secret garden all to themselves. Something  _ permanent  _ to take their mind off the lifeless metal walls they’d die in.

A bird would make it  _ perfect. _ Jesus, Jim could almost hear it now. A breathtaking visual to compliment the ambient sounds.

_ Wait. _ Didn’t birds mate for life? Two birds, then.

… And if he woke the small hive of bees, they could have honey. Lana would love that, something new to bake with. But a whole hive might need more than a small garden.  _ Right? _ He might have wake more plants.

This small garden might end up bigger than it looked in his mind.

…Is this how Lana started  _ Nautilus Jr?  _ He was already carried away.

Jim grabbed a notebook and dug out a pen. He’d have to plan this. A garden this scale could die easy on a steel boat in space if the planters were too shallow. Would the artificial light be enough?

If all else failed, he supposed he could wake nocturnal plants and lightning bugs.

Jim sketched a rough layout of the Concourse around the fountain.  _ Box in the chairs. _ He drew a square, scribbled  _ flower  _ or  _ fruit tree. Herbs.  _ Little arrows for  _ beehive  _ and  _ bird’s nest.  _ Before he knew it, Jim carried  _ himself  _ away. Bees and herbs lead to edible flowers; dandelions, pansies, chicory. Those led him to greens; he even tasted  _ cilantro  _ and  _ chives  _ as he wrote them down.  _ What Lana wouldn’t give for a fresh garden. _

One more thing to get them through each day. Not just a pretty place to sit, but  _ something to tend. _ Something that required day-to-day care.

When he set down the sketch, still dirty and stained from handling soil, Jim had drawn something grander than he knew he could dream up.  _ They could even have a lawn. _ He would need her help; not something he could do in one night to surprise her.

In fact, this was the best idea he’d had since he woke up.

 

 

He surprised her. Stopped her when she closed the fridge and pressed his sketch to the door. Held her belly as he kissed her shoulder from behind, kept her from moving away.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured. When she didn’t respond, Jim peeked up. Lana stared at the sketch, tilting her head to read his tiny scribbles; otherwise unable to move. Jim smiled and kissed her again.

Her gasp moved her whole body. “Oh my god.  _ Jim!” _ She leaned away to look at him, searching for validation.  _ Hope. _

The exact reaction he pictured. He didn’t always hit the nail on the head. He was glad he did with something that already mattered to her.

Jim smiled at her. “Sound good?”

“You’re serious? We can really do this?”

“Why not? This is our home, right? We have plants, soil, seeds. It’ll take a while, but we have time. We can  _ absolutely  _ do this.”

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

It wasn’t always sunshine and daisies.

Or drawing plans to make dreams come true.

Maybe it would have been different on Homestead Two. Or on Earth.

Things were far from perfect on the Avalon. On Homestead Two or Earth, if Jim found a partner who had more bad days than good, he would not have stayed long. He would have asked her to get professional help, then left if it endured anyway. If early on enough, he would have ended it quick; and blocked her number. On Homestead Two or Earth, Jim would have had options. He would have taken one of the first windows of escape and tried for something easier.

_Easier._

Underlying everything Lana did for Jim - to make him smile, help him make their drawn-out death easier - there was always something else on her mind. _Her daughter._ Lana never spoke of what troubled her without prompting, and even then a common answer was _“it’s just a hard day for me.”_ But Jim knew. It was the only priority ever above him. She was quiet the days she couldn’t distract herself.

It bothered Jim. Worried him. But her pain was his, now, and Jim was at a point in life where he’d rather talk out problems. Work through what ailed them. He wasn’t in a position to move on to something easier. If he did, he’d be alone again; and she’d not trust him again. And who knew what Lana would do. It strained them, it put a hold on building their garden together - _her_ dream - but Jim couldn’t get her to open up.  

It also made Jim realize what it took to hold a lasting relationship together. What it took to grow old with someone. Trial and error, _effort_ to be supportive. Trial and error _within_ effort itself, and the willingness to begin each new day _trying again._ The options Jim would have had on Earth or Homestead Two did not exist here. It made him see how selfish and self-centered he’d been on Earth, even when he thought himself the bottom of the human food chain. It made him understand if he _really wanted_ it more than anything else, he had to _work_ for it. True love didn’t come without effort like it did in Disney movies. A _never-ending effort to be present_ and _active_ in what he wanted.

What he wanted was to never be alone again. And he _loved_ her. He was _trying_ to make her days easier. He tried to make her happy. Tried to make up for ruining her life; and her daughter’s.

But he saw it when she looked at him, even if he made her smile. She was slipping away. Her motivation for waking wasn’t Jim anymore, wasn’t even her cats. Nothing awake on board was enough to ease her aches.

A single, new week where she smiled more and tried to act like she hadn’t lapsed. She helped Jim gather planks and soil to start their garden, she made chocolates again. Wanted long nights making love. Then, she withdrew again.

_If heartache and pity were drugs._

Lana spent more time in her kitchen, or in her studio. No new projects, nothing other than meals and coffee in the kitchen. No gradual decline this time. Jim couldn’t get her to eat with him anymore, and each attempt, she sat sullen poking her food. Didn’t want to make love anymore. Jim had to start the shower for her and start to undress her half the time before she even took a shower.

And it got worse. She wasn’t there when Jim called out. He traced their normal niches a few times before he thought to check the hibernation bay. Sure enough, she sat at her daughter’s pod again. Head against the cover, mumbling. Jim couldn’t pick out her words, but he let her alone. Let her mourn.

But he wished he hadn’t. When she returned to the apartment late at night, puffy-eyed and sniffling, she didn’t want to be held. She curled up on the other edge of the bed and slept with her back to Jim. The following days were no different. She woke and went straight to the hibernation bay, sometimes even skipping coffee. When they were together, she said nothing to Jim. A shell of a person who used to fill his days by being there. When she was near him, her silence and blank face was sometimes too much. She wanted _nothing_ to do with him again.

She didn’t want his arms anymore. Didn’t want _him_ anymore.

It hurt. And Jim couldn’t even tell her.

She didn’t come back one night. Jim woke to an empty bed. He did nothing but stare at the untouched pillow before forcing himself into the shower. It was easier to hide heartbreak under steaming water.

He found her by her daughter’s pod again. Crying aloud this time, clinging. _Hurting._ Jim went to her before he could convince himself not to. This had gone on too long, it was getting worse every day. Something had to be done. He couldn’t live with her absence again, not after what they’d been through together.

“Lana?” He approached slow. It made no difference, she didn’t respond anyway. She didn’t even look up. “Lana, _talk_ to me. _Please._ What can I do? How can I help you?”

She ducked her head and head and sniffed. “I don’t want you here.”

 _“Lana._ Please,” he begged.”

She shook her head, refusing to look up. “I don’t want you here,” she repeated. “You’ve- you’ve done enough to end- to end my life with my daughter. I don’t want you around her.”

This stung more than anything. It was an _accident,_ and he’d worked his ass off trying to make up for it. “I’ve never tried to hurt you,” he insisted.

“I don’t care what you meant to do. You - you still did this to me. To my daughter. I don’t want you at her pod.”

“You won’t even talk to me?” He searched her hidden face. “I’m trying to help you. Doesn’t that count for something? How is it so bad to smile again? You used to let me make you smile.”

She shook her head, eyes squeezed tight. “Just… let me have this _one thing.”_

“I’m not trying to take your daughter from you, Lana.” Did she really think that?

“You took my _old_ life com- completely away!” she gestured away without looking up. _Her hibernation pod._

“Lana.” This wasn’t fair. How could she do this to him?

“You took _everything_ away from me and re- replaced it with something _new._ And I _tried_ it. Jim, I tried _so hard_ to forget her and move on, but--” she broke off in gasps and more tears.

“I never said you had to forget your daughter.” Was she even listening?

She sat sniffling and gasping for a moment, still not raising her head. "You keep doing things to make- make me think this new life is okay. But I ca- can’t do it anymore. I can’t… I can’t live in the fantasy anymore, J- Jim. That’s-- _that’s all it is._ A fantasy. A _distraction_. Distractions don’t fix my problem.”

Jim didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. She was his distraction from a lifetime trapped on an empty ship. He knew it. _He_ was okay with it. Even before they had sex, she was a great distraction. Her willingness to talk to him and sit with him and be _a part of each day with him_ changed his life. She was his reason, for waking, for taking care of himself, for _trying._ They couldn’t change the accident, and maybe in time they’d figure out how to put her back in hibernation so she’d see her daughter again.

How did she look at what they did for each other and think it was _worthless?_

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. So he left. Let her mourn what had not died. Sulked to the bar and took a shot of whiskey even before his coffee.

And he didn’t see her again for two weeks.

 _Just like that._ Back to what it used to be. What had she called it? Oh, right:

_Worse than being alone is being with people who make you feel alone._

 


	21. Chapter 21

Jim tried. He decided she needed time, thought if he kept himself up and continued each day like before, she might come back to him. Like she did when the need for touch overwhelmed her.

She didn’t. Didn’t even come back for a change of clothes.

Jim worked on the garden he planned. He nailed planks together, sealed the edges, filled them with soil and prepared it for plants. Hoped she watched him on the security vids again and saw him making her dream come to life.

If she did, Jim never knew.

When he saw her again, she had lost weight. Thinner than he’d ever seen her, dark bags under her eyes like she’d been up days. She didn’t look up when he said her name. As if she didn’t know he was there. Lana was a shell once more. As if they’d never opened up to each other and decided to love.

One morning, he stepped out onto the Concourse with a mug of coffee only to find her _right there._ _She was on the Concourse: she saw the garden._ His hopes sprang, only to sink back when she stepped around him. Jim stopped her by the arm, and when she looked back like she’d tell him off, he put his full mug in her hands and smiled for her. Then he went on his way. He didn’t know what else to do but wait till she warmed up.  

He missed her. Missed her warmth against him all night, missed her body in the bed when he rolled over. He missed sitting with coffee together each morning. The way her eyes crinkled to slivers when she laughed, the way she swore when she made cooking mistakes. The way she twisted next to him as they walked so she could keep an eye on her cats.  _ He missed the way she kissed him. _ Missed how she curled in when he touched her. Missed her hot breath on his skin at night.

Harder still to watch her shrivel from hope, knowing for awhile he  _ had  _ a purpose… but now he had none. Nothing he did was enough to bring her back up. He didn’t want to consider she was right. He didn’t want to admit distracting themselves might be nothing but a temporary solution that could not last forever. They had the rest of their lives left. But at this rate…

He didn’t want everything they had to be  _ it. _ There  _ had  _ to be more. He wanted there to be something more in store for them, something  _ sweeter. _ Something that would survive with them and fruit, something to make their last days  _ together  _ worth it. He wanted to  _ live with _ her, not die alone. He did not want to believe this the end for them.

The end of  _ them  _ might mean the end of them  _ each. _

Then he decided what she might was for him to show he loved her. Jim tried harder to let her know. He sent his cam bot with flowers to the hibernation bay when he knew she was there. He left little notes on the chair by her daughter’s pod, little message like  _ I love you;  _ and  _ Thank you for completing my life; Hey Beautiful;  _ and  _ I hope today is wonderful for you. I miss you.  _ He stole into her kitchen and figure out how to make little candies out of melted chocolate, and left those with notes, too. She never responded, but he left them anyway. In case she still watched him on security cams, Jim left partial messages all over the common areas, so when Lana sat in the steward’s office and saw all screens together, she saw a whole message.

He finished the sitting garden. Tomatoes, sweet peppers, and strawberries next to a rainbow of flowers. He dragged up two chairs and bolted them to the floor, even assembled a little table so she could sit with coffee or tea amongst her garden. With the fountain behind him and sweet aromas, vibrant colors, it didn’t look like an empty, metal ship without people. It looked like a porch garden.

_ He planted a tree.  _ Jim thought at least that would get her attention. He drew the plans, chalked off where to cut, and how much room it would need to grow, how to open the floor so it would bend as the tree grew.  _ Right in the ship itself. _ He stayed up all night doing it. But not even that brought her back to him. Little notes and tiny chocolate hearts and roses remained on the garden table. Chairs were not sat in. A full watering can sat untouched on flower bed corners every time he set them out. She didn’t try to be part of anything. Even herself.

To make matters more troublesome, more sweeper bots broke down. He carried the second to break in one day down the elevator, only for the elevator to glitch as he stepped off. The doors slammed, bouncing away to slam again, trying to open and close at the same time. The V.I. skipped and scratched, unable to warn against momentary gravity loss for needing to announce the Concourse. Jim felt lucky he’d stopped off when he did.

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, an info bot console sprang to life only for its lights to flicker and languages filter through faster than it could finish each word. When a Pigeon bot slammed into a wall so hard it flipped upside down, Jim decided to investigate. His own pod failure was supposed to be impossible, but now this? This wasn’t normal. Jim walked the long way to the upper Concourse level to the Steward’s office to investigate. With any luck, the problem was something simple in plain sight, something he could fix.

But he found nothing. Lana was still logged in, allowing Jim access to common area security cams, but it was for naught. Jim went back one day, then three days, then eight days. Nothing out of the ordinary except two more broken bots on decks Jim had no reason to visit. No water leaks, no puddles, no obvious answer for the malfunctioning ship. No movement at all.

… Not even from Lana. Jim looked at the date and time on the corner of the screen before he realized he hadn’t seen Lana, either, for the eight days he reviewed.

_ Where was she? _

Not even in the hibernation bay. Jim leaned back in the chair while he rewound another week until he found her. Lana hadn’t visited her daughter in almost two weeks. He sat still, trying to let sudden concern overwhelm him. Lana had given up.

If she had given up…

No.  _ No, _ he  _ not  _ want to think about that.

Movement on a corner screen caught his eye, but before he could turn his head, the Steward’s door opened. Relief from knowing she still lived was replaced by other worry in a blink. Thinner still, red eyes, bare feet. Clothes that used to cling hung off her like she’d had no one to borrow from but someone twice her size. She was starving herself again, no doubt on pills again also.

“Lana.” Jim shot up from the chair. Lana took one look at him and sighed, turning around to hurry the way she came. “Lana,  _ no! _ Wait! Please!”

But Jim was too late. By the time he ran around the corner, she was gone, and when he sat back at the desk to check the cams, she had hidden herself.

Alone, again. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

Jim didn’t know what else to do. Lana didn’t respond to his notes, to the garden he built her. She didn’t even visit her daughter’s pod anymore. She’d complained Jim had taken her old life away, but she isolated herself from more than Jim had ever done on accident. She _chose_ to hide away. He felt _himself_ slipping. Tossed and turned at night, stared at the empty pillow next to his. No breath in the darkness when he woke up. _Silence_. He had no way to connect himself to her anymore.

He found himself in the hibernation bay one night. Couldn’t sleep, so he got up for a stroll through the _nighttime_ lights of the Concourse with its ambiance of cricket and owls. He had the idea if he waited long enough in the hibernation bay, he’d see Lana again. But it was empty; aside from all the sleeping passengers. Who knew how many hours went by. Jim strolled slow, no rush to get somewhere he’d need to turn around from.

His eyes moved to a camera above. _Was she watching him now?_

When Jim stopped walking, he found himself at a pod with a familiar chair. The last batch of chocolates he’d left still sat there. _Eve._ Lana’s daughter. She looked so much like her mother. He’d read her profile and watched her vid. Sweet kid. Innocent. Loved her mother as much as Jim thought he loved her.

If he didn’t know he’d die before she woke up, he’d be eager to meet her.

With a sigh, Jim picked up his unwanted treat and sat in the chair. What else was there to do? Nothing he did made an impact. It didn’t help her, so it didn’t help him. It began to feel like he’d wasted his time.

He looked at the sleeping child before ripping the note from the tiny satchel. “Here.” He reached out and placed the little chocolate roses on Eve’s pod. “Your mom doesn’t seem to like chocolate anymore, so…” Jim gave a crooked, empty smile at the still body. A sigh in irony fell out. “Maybe you’ll like them.”

Jim stared. He didn’t expect Eve to answer. Kid was in hibernation, after all.

But she was someone to talk to.

“I’m Jim, by the way. Jim Preston.” He nodded as if she was awake to see him. “I’m…” he sighed again. “My hibernation pod failed. We’re on the Avalon still traveling toward Homestead Two. I’ve been awake almost two and a half years, your mom… just over a year. I am… well, I guess I’m like your… _ex-step_ -dad.” A scoff of amusement came up. “Me and your mom, uh… “ Jim smiled in apology at the pod. “We kind of fell apart.” Paused. His eyes strayed in thought. “I think it was an accident. We never fought. We just sort of… she misses you.” Jim nodded. “We didn’t fight, but I… screwed up something horrible anyway, I guess. Well, not _I guess._ I _know_ what I did wrong.” He didn’t look at the sleeping girl. He didn’t know why he was telling her this. It wouldn’t bring Lana back to him.

He needed to get it off his chest. With Lana hiding from him, he had no one to talk to. Arthur didn’t count; machines did not understand human struggles. Jim concluded Eve was the next closest thing to Lana; sleeping or not.

“I meant to wake another woman. It was a year ago. I… was _desperate,”_ he tried to explain himself to Lana’s sleeping daughter. “I’d been awake and alone for a year. I meant to wake someone else, but something happened and your mom woke up instead, and… I couldn’t take it back.” He hesitated to twiddle his thumbs. Guilt pressed in on his chest again. “I feel horrible for waking your mom up. But I don’t know how to repair the damage. She… unfortunately won’t make it by the time you wake up. Neither of us will. I’ve tried to fix what I can,” he insisted. As if the girl needed persuading. “And we keep looking for ways to get us back to sleep.” Jim paused. “I… _love_ her. I’ve tried to make her days worth while. I built her a garden, I woke the cats she wanted, I…” Jim shook his head. He felt helpless even recalling it all. “But it’s not enough for her. Nothing takes her mind off the- _my_ mistake.

“I didn’t _mean_ to fall in love with her. But I did. She’s _amazing,_ Eve.” Jim looked at her. “Before your mom, I… was on the brink of death. _Literally._ It got so bad I wanted to throw myself out the airlock. But when she came-- when she _warmed up_ to me, she _changed_ my _world,”_ he didn’t look at her while he spoke. “She was a _heartbeat_ and a _smile_ and --- _there_ for me when I had nothing but silence and _echoes_ here before.” He dared himself to look at Lana’s daughter again. “I thought that might _count_ for something. It happened the _natural_ way, you know? I fell in love without meaning to. I want to _think_ your mom loves me. It _feels_ like she does. Or it _did._ It wasn’t something either of us planned. Your mom,” he took a deep breath to steady his voice and looked down. As if the sleeping child could see his eyes gloss. “She doesn’t think she’s beautiful. _I_ think she’s _incredible._ She’s so beautiful I can’t stop wondering how the hell - _heck,_ sorry. Don’t repeat that - how the _heck_ I got so lucky. I’ve tried to show her how lucky I feel, but nothing I do convinces her. At least not for long. And… it breaks my heart,” he admitted, staring at the white of his thumbnail. “We might be each other’s only choice, but we didn’t _have_ to be friends. She never _had_ to warm up to me. But she _chose_ to, and… I fell in love. I couldn't stop it.” A huff escaped. “I didn’t expect to fall in love on this ship at _all._

“She thinks I’m… trying to take her away from you. She thinks I’m trying to _distract_ her. You know,” he shifted and bent a leg over over his knee, “we get along great. At least, we did. I still don’t know what went wrong. I have a lot in common with your mom. We like the same things, we understand each other. To _me,_ it _doesn’t matter_ I mean to wake up someone else. Your  _mom_ is what helped me, not…” Jim shook his head. It now occurred to him Lana might still think he loved Aurora Lane instead. Maybe it was why she didn’t believe him when he called her beautiful. _“Your mom_ saved me.” He might have focused on Aurora Lane at first, but in the end, it was Lana all along. She made his life better than he ever though Aurora could. _“She_ took away the darkness in my life. She _made_ the ship come _alive._ She-” shook his head again, “she gave me purpose, I had someone to _wake up_ for. I had someone to make _happy_ . Your _mom_ is my purpose. But it wasn’t-- _I’m_ not enough for her in the long run… it seems. I don’t know how to make it up to her without waking you, also, but it would take away _your_ life. You’d be stranded here _with_ us, and when _we_ die, you’d be all alone. I…

“You’re _so young,_ Eve. If _anything_ comes of my hibernation pod failing, I hope it means people like you grow up _off_ this ship. If I can _help_ it, I’d rather you have chances I never had on Earth. Or won’t have in ten years because I'm _stuck_ here. I think that’s the whole point any of us migrated in the first place.”

Jim watched the still, silent child. He wondered if she could hear him, if she’d wake up in eighty-eight years remembering this visit as nothing more than a dream.

He sighed, and stood. “I’m sorry. I came down here hoping to find your mom. I didn’t mean to…” He looked back at the slumbering face. “Thanks for listening, all the same.” Jim reached over and patted the hibernation pod. It didn’t feel like the child of a woman he’d never known before. Didn’t feel like a child he never met. At that moment, it felt like he was looking down at his own daughter.  “Sorry I won’t be here when you wake up, Eve.” Fatherhood didn’t seem like such a bad job. Not here. Not with the child of the woman he loved. “You know, I don’t have kids of my own. I would have liked to give it shot with your mom. I’m… sorry I won’t get a chance to be your dad.” He hesitated once more before turning his back and heading for the bar.

Jim almost didn’t remember walking back to his apartment that night.

 


	23. Chapter 23

A scent Jim hadn’t had in his room for almost three months hit his nose when he stepped out of the shower. _Coffee._ Fresh-brewed coffee, yet Jim didn’t have a coffee maker in his suite. Suspecting Lana sneaked in and left coffee while he washed, Jim dried off as fast as he could, threw on underwear and jeans, and grabbed an undershirt on the way downstairs.

 _Where Lana sat_ with two steaming mugs of coffee. She _hadn’t_ snuck in and left. She’d walked in and _stayed._

 _“Hey.”_ He pulled the tee-shirt on as he descended. She looked no better than when he last saw her. Staring down at her coffee made her face look longer, enhancing her heartaches. “Are you okay?” Stupid question. She looked a mess. It was obvious she hurt.

Lana shook her head, not looking up. The coffee mug turned in her hands. “It doesn’t stop hurting,” she muttered. “No matter what I do. No matter… how many pills I take.” A scoff broke from her throat. “We’re fucking on a _ship_ with over a thousand species way out in space, but they don’t make pills to make me forget.”

“Lana.” Jim sat at the table with her, scooting as close as he dared. “I’m sorry. I _am._ I don’t know how to fix it. Except… _be_ with you,” he insisted. Jim felt buried again. “I _know_ that doesn’t excuse what I did. But I’m _trying_ to make it _better_ for you.”

Her sullen face drooped with a struggling pout. She still didn’t look at him. “I’m not--” Uneven breath shook her shoulders. “I don’t... blame you. I said a _lot_ of mean things in the hibernation bay. I didn’t mean them.” Loose strands waved when she shook her head. She closed her eyes and winced. “I’m just… I _know_ my pod malfunctioned. I saw it, I know that wasn’t your fault.” Red, glassy eyes in swollen lids forced their way to his. _“I’m scared,”_ so quiet and broken he almost didn’t hear her.

Before Jim could speak or console her, she continued, eyes fallen back to her cooling mug. “You made me fo-forget everything for a while. And d-during the day, I f- you made me forget I _had_ an old life.” She stopped for a deeper pout and more gasping. “I felt normal,” she confessed. “I felt b- _beautiful_ and _loved._ Loved like I _wanted_ to be loved. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt-- _pretty.”_ Trembling hands brought the coffee mug to her mouth. Black today; she used to use cream and sweetener.

“Lana.” Jim didn’t know what to say. He reached over and took a hand, and squeezed.

“I forgot her face.” Her own face pinched together.

“Eve?” he guessed. Jim couldn’t imagine how frightening that was for her.

Lana nodded. “I felt-- I was _so immersed_ in distracting that - _from death_ \- that I _forgot_ her. I forgot to go see her, I forgot I even... And I just…” she zigzag-ed stiff fingers at her head. It’s all fuzzy and fading. This th- thing with you feels like the b-biggest distraction,” she almost choked on a gasp, “like I’m watching a mag- a magician and I _know_ it’s just a trick.” A trap she walked into.

Jim had no answers. It seemed like she needed to get it off her chest, but he couldn’t even offer advice. She had it worse than he did when he was alone.

He didn’t want to be alone, though. She was here. They could do what they needed together.

“How can I help you through this?” Jim asked.

Her eyes moved before raising her head. Her cheeks shined raw, swollen from tears.

“I never asked you to forget your daughter, Lana,” he reminded her.

“Its happened anyway,” she whispered. “It just happened.”

“So…” Jim thought as quick as he could. “What… can we do together to keep Eve alive for you?” When she met his eyes, Jim sat closer. “I _need_ you. I can’t-” He shook his head. “I can’t live without you now, Lana. Not after I know what we could have. We can do this _together,_ it doesn’t have to be a scary unknown. I can’t do this alone knowing it doesn’t have to be this way.” Jim paused, searching her eyes. “We had a good thing. Didn’t we? Can’t we do this _together?”_

Choppy gasps eased till her breath came smoother. She stared back, maybe unable to answer like he was. “Did you mean what you said at her pod last night?” she searched him with a small squint, as if she couldn’t quite the code on his face.

Jim smiled for her. She’d watched him sit with her daughter. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I meant every word, Lana.”

“It doesn’t feel strange for you? How does it not feel like a trap?” She still didn’t believe how he felt.

“A trap? No.” Jim shook his head. “Not with you here.” He reached over and tucked hair behind her ear. “When you were here each night, it felt like coming home. _I don’t want to lose that, Lana._ I don’t want to lose _you.”_

“You aren’t scared?”

“I’m _terrified,”_ he admitted. “Things keep breaking, no one’s awake to help us, we can’t even see _why_ the robots keep malfunctioning. But you were there when I couldn’t take it. I don’t feel as scared with you. You made me feel like it would be okay in the end. Like there’s nothing to worry about.”

Lana stared like she had trouble absorbing he felt this way about her. “What if we can’t ever find a way back to sleep?” she asked.

Jim could only shrug. He had no clue. “We’ll do what we need to here, then. We’ll finish the garden, make it somewhere we can _live._ There’s parts for everything.” He smiled. “We could build our own _home,”_ he offered. Jim watched her search him. “Wake chickens and birds. Fish. We can make a _life._ But you have to help me, Lana.”

Hope began to dawn on her face. He almost heard her silent question in his head.

“We can make it a life for your daughter to wake up to. But you _can’t_ run away again, Lana. I _can’t do_ it if you keep running away and _hiding_ from me. We can’t get through _anything_ when you run away. And you’re _not eating_ again.” Jim sighed. He hadn’t meant to lecture her. “I don’t want to _die_ with you, Lana. I want to _live_ with you. We can have a good time _without_ forgetting your daughter,” he promised.

“I don’t have to forget her to sleep next to you?” another concept she misunderstood.

“No.” Jim shook his head. “In fact, we can go back every night to see her. You and me.”

“We?” she echoed, searching him.

“Or you. I don’t have to go if you want to do that alone.” He thought for a moment. “If we were on Homestead, wouldn’t we do stuff with her anyway? Like go to the fair, or… the park? Camping? Family stuff?”

“Family?”

A pang flicked him inside. Did she not consider him part of her life? “Isn’t that the point of everything we had?” he asked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for not commenting.


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